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THE  HEIR  OF  SHERBURNE 


SHERBURNE  HOUSE. 

LYNDELL  SHERBURNE. 

SHERBURNE  COUSINS. 

A  SHERBURNE  ROMANCE. 

THE  MISTRESS  OF  SHERBURNE. 

THE  CHILDREN  AT  SHERBURNE  HOUSE. 

SHERBURNE  GIRLS. 

THE  HEIR  OF  SHERBURNE. 


THE 

HEIR  OF  SHERBURNE 


BY 

AMANDA   M.  DOUGLAS 

Author  of  "  A  Little  Girl  in  Old  New  York,"  «  Floyd 

Grandon's  Honor,"  "  Larry,"  Etc. 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1899 

by 

Dodd,  Mead  &  Company 


SADIE  M.  COMPTON. 

There  are  terraces  to  life— Childhood,  Youth, 
Womanhood,  and  then  a  long  garden-walk 
wherein  we  gather  what  other  hands  have 
sown,  and  plant  anew  for  those  who  shall  come 
after  us. 

A.  M.  D. 

Newark,  1899. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  PAGE 

I.     An  Outgrowing I 

II.    What  the  Morning  Brought 17 

III.  A  Luncheon  Party 32 

IV.  In  the  Retrospect 49 

V.    The  Bosom  of  the  Family 62 

VI.     In  a  Strait  Betwixt  Two 79 

VII.    Acceptance 95 

VIII.     Getting  Settled io9 

IX.    A  Touch  of  Nature 126 

X.     A  Flock  of  Girls '44 

XI.     Unwisdom 162 

XII.    And  then  Consideration 177 

XIII.    A  Lover  on  the  Winning  Side 193 

XIV.    A  Discord  of  Unreason 209 

XV.     A  Harmony  in  Gold 225 

XVI.    Told  in  a  Glance 242 

XVII.     Poisoning  Truth 256 

XVIII.     The  Light  that  Illumines 277 

XIX.     From  Youth  to  Manhood 294 

XX.    The  Lamp  of  Reason      311 

XXI.    The  High  Resolves  of  Youth 328 

XXII.     A  Broad,  Bright  Space 343 

XXIII.  The  Lessons  of  Life 359 

XXIV.  In  the  Old  House 377 

vii 


THE  HEIR  OF  SHERBURNE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN    OUTGROWING. 


TT7HEN  Gertrude  Maurice  stepped  out  of  the  hand- 
*  *  somely  appointed  train  on  the  main-line,  and  after 
half  an  hour's  tedious  waiting,  entered  the  second-rate 
branch  line,  the  whole  world  seemed  to  change  to  her. 
She  had  kept  up  her  delusion  as  long  as  possible.  The 
well-dressed,  prosperous  looking  people,  the  middle-aged 
women  with  an  air  of  good  breeding  and  knowledge  of 
the  world,  the  young  women  with  the  aspect  of  being 
satisfactorily  settled  in  life,  the  buds  of  one  or  two  seasons 
who  had  not  yet  left  off  their  winsome  smiles ;  men  of 
conscious  experience,  young  fellows  radiating  a  society 
atmosphere  of  exclusiveness,  and  other  young  fellows 
plain  and  happy,  starting  on  a  summer  vacation. 

What  a  different  aspect  this  way  train  presented.  The 
green  plush  was  dingy  and  faded.  There  were  not  many 
passengers  at  this  hour.  Several  women  with  unruly 
children,  country-looking  men  who  stared  about  vacantly, 
a  few  showily  gowned  girls  with  unmodulated  voices,  and 
an  air  of  having  had  a  good  time  somewhere,  and  willing 
the  rest  of  the  world  should  know  it  and  envy  them. 


2  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Gertrude  had  a  seat  to  herself.  She  put  her  satchel 
beside  her,  piled  up  her  papers,  glanced  around  and  was 
glad  she  did  not  know  any  one,  then  settled  in  a  delicate, 
leisurely  fashion.  The  summer  was  over.  That  kind  of 
delightful  experience  was  ended  for  her.  She  was  going 
back  to  common  life,  very  common  it  looked  to  her.  If 
she  could  run  away  and  drop  out  of  both  worlds — her 
world  of  nineteen  years,  and  the  great  future  world — she 
was  quite  sure,  with  the  unreason  of  youth,  life  could 
never  hold  so  felicitous  an  episode  again. 

For  she  had  hovered  on  the  borders  of  an  enchanted 
land,  and  glanced  at  a  love  that  might  have  been  hers,  a 
love  such  as  she  had  never  dreamed  would  come  into  her 
life,  had  understood  by  some  sudden  prescience  how  to 
win  it.  A  raising  of  the  eyes  in  mute  appeal,  a  clasp  of 
the  hand,  a  sentence  begun  in  haste  and  broken  off  with 
a  blush,  a  quick  acceptance  of  a  proffer  of  sympathy 
that  had  just  back  of  it  another  meaning.  A  happy, 
restful  life  for  all  the  years  to  come  ! 

She  had  not  made  the  sign.  She  wished  Mr.  Murray 
knew  the  exact  motive  that  had  hurried  her  quick  nega- 
tive to  his  half-asking.  If  it  had  been  a  little  more  defi- 
nite, if  he  had  not  treated  her  anxiety  to  find  a  standing 
place  in  the  world  with  that — yes,  it  was  indifference  ! 
His  idea  of  a  woman's  sphere  was  a  graceful  willow  chair 
on  a  veranda,  and  brightness  enough  to  be  entertaining. 
Well — truth  to  tell,  her  ambition  was  not  much  higher. 
Princess  Beaumaiioir  had  aims,  Violet  Osborne  was  a 
genius,  but  she  could  be  content  with  a  pleasant  life. 
Yet  in  many  things  she  could  attain  to  the  standard  of  these 
Sherburne  and  Beaumanoir  people.  And  she  wished  he 
could  understand  the  delicacy  that  had  kept  her  from 
reaching  out  for  the  prize  she  coveted,   the  pride  and 


AN  OUTGROWING.  3 

delicacy  she  had  flaunted  in  the  face  of  Princess  Beau- 
manoir. 

The  train  stopped.  The  sleepy  little  town  looked 
drowsier  than  when  she  had  left  it.  There  were  a  few 
idlers  about  the  station,  and  two  of  them  nodded  to  her, 
which  brought  a  flush  of  indignation  to  her  cheek. 

Two  girls  were  coming  along  the  street.  This  was  the 
passenger  side.  The  other  led  down  to  the  business  por- 
tion of  the  town. 

"  O  Gertie  !  "  A  tall  girl  with  an  unformed  figure  and 
extremely  youthful  face  gave  her  an  enthusiastic  embrace. 

Her  companion  was  shorter,  more  womanly  and  sedate. 

"OLu!  O  Agnes  !  " 

"Hasn't  it  been  splendid!  And  how  you  stayed! 
Mother  was  quite  sure  when  you  wrote  about  that 
club." 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense,  Lu,"  commanded  the  elder  in  an 
authoritative  tone.  "  How  well  you  look,  Gertrude.  We 
have  enjoyed  the  letters  so  much.  It  was  almost  like  an 
outing  for  all  of  us." 

"  I'd  a  hundred  times  rather  had  the  real  thing,"  in- 
terposed Lu. 

"  O,  my  trunk.     I  must  go  back  with  the  check." 

"  Never  mind.  We  will  send  'Lonzo  down  with  the 
wheelbarrow  and  save  half  the  charge." 

It  had  come  to  the  reign  of  small  economies  again. 

They  turned  away  from  the  station,  away  from  the 
river  as  well.  Lu  took  the  satchel.  It  had  a  flavor  of 
the  coast  of  Maine  and  traveling. 

The  plain  little  town  and  the  houses  had  grown  old 
together.  There  were  wide  shaded  streets  with  grassy 
edges  to  the  sidewalks  paved  with  planks.  Gardens  and 
fruit-trees,  and  beyond  farms  and  woodlands. 


4  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

Gertrude  surveyed  her  sisters  half  sorrowfully,  half 
critically.  Agnes'  yellow-grey  stuff  gown  was  most  un- 
becoming. Her  sailor  hat,  black,  with  a  black  ribbon  was 
rather  dingy,  stiff  and  ugly.  Lu  looked  better  in  her 
cambric  frock  that  was  not  quite  long,  though  she  had 
surreptitiously  let  it  down.  "Two  grown  girls  were 
enough,"  Mrs.  Maurice  said,  "and  one  of  them  must  be 
married  before  Lu  could  leave  girlhood." 

"I  wouldn't  mind  if  I  wasn't  such  a  Maypole," 
grumbled  Lu,  complainingly.  Agnes  had  been  grown  up 
since  she  was  twelve  years  old. 

"Everybody  is  well,"  commented  Gertrude. 

"  O  yes,  though  poor  father  doesn't  seem  quite  up  to  the 
mark ;  I  wish  he  could  have  a  holiday,  but  we  really  can't 
afford  it.  Elsie  has  had  the  measles — very  light.  Elsie 
and  Virgie  have  never  had  the  mumps,  and  there  have 
been  several  cases.  I  dare  say  they  will  get  it  as  soon  as 
school  begins.  It  is  a  pity  they  could  not  have  had  it  in 
vacation." 

"Mumps  and  measles  for  a  welcome  home,"  giggled 
Lu.     Gertie  laughed  as  well.     How  ridiculous  it  was  ! 

"Of  course  we  are  delighted  to  get  you  back,  but  it 
did  not  seem  as  strange  as  if  you  had  not  been  away  at 
school.  And  we  were  so  interested  in  your  nice  trip.  It 
was  very  good  of  your  friends  to  lengthen  out  the  pleas- 
ure, and  your  letters  were  a  treat." 

Agnes'  dull  face  brightened.  Gertrude  was  right  when 
she  said  there  was  not  a  handsome  one  among  the  five 
girls.  She  had  a  certain  piquancy  with  her  purplish  eyes 
and  fair  hair,  but  her  complexion  was  many  shades  too 
dark.  Agnes  seemed  all  of  one  color.  Her  hair  was  a 
soft,  dead  brown,  her  eyes  a  light  brown.  Lu  was  much 
fairer,  with   a  chestnut   tinge  to  her  hair,  but  freckled, 


AN   OUTGROWING.  S 

which  made  her  look  sallow.  And  she  did  hate  freckles 
so ! 

"There  is  no  adjective  that  would  do  the  outing  any 
justice,"  said  Gertrude,  with  a  long  inspiration.  "O,  I 
wish  you  all  could  have  been  there  !  ' ' 

"  Father  and  everybody?  "  Lu  giggled  again. 

Gertrude  swallowed  hard  to  keep  the  scarlet  out  of  her 
face.     Did  money  make  all  this  difference? 

"  I  wish  we  had  a  lot  of  relations,"  began  Lu.  "  And 
we  haven't  one  cousin.  All  that  crowd  were  cousins, 
weren't  they?  And  it  must  be  just  splendid  to  have  so 
much  money  !  I  suppose  they  are  all  as  rich  as  Aunt 
Sampson  ?  Well,  you  have  made  some  elegant  friends, 
Gertrude  Maurice." 

And  she — Gertrude  had  stepped  out  of  this  charmed 
circle  forever.  There  would  be  a  gulf  between  her  and 
Princess  Beaumanoir,  who  had  been  the  moving  spirit  of 
the  golden  summer. 

A  neighbor  met  them,  full  of  cordial  curiosity.  "  What 
was  Maine  like  ?  And  Yankee  people  ?  Was  New  York 
any  grander  than  Philadelphia,  for  all  the  talk?  She 
hoped  to  get  to  Philadelphia  before  she  died.  And  Susie 
went  to  Cape  May.  Marty's  husband  took  her  along 
with  them.  You  must  come  over  and  compare  notes 
about  your  journeys." 

Gertrude  nodded  smilingly. 

They  walked  up  a  path  bordered  by  tall  dahlias.  An 
old-fashioned,  one-story  and  a  half  house,  with  a  wide 
porch,  overhung  by  a  dilapidated  shingle  roof.  A  small, 
delicate,  middle-aged  woman  sat  in  a  splint  rocker  mend- 
ing some  thread  lace,  a  souvenir  of  her  youth.  She  did 
not  rise,  but  glanced  up  in  a  dignified  manner.  Gertrude 
bent  over  and  kissed  her. 


6  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

She  examined  the  girl  minutely.  Then  she  cleared  her 
throat  with  a  delicate  sound  that  she  considered  im- 
pressive. 

"  You  have  improved  in  style,"  she  said,  graciously. 
"  I  am  glad  you  have  had  such  an  excellent  opportunity, 
and  I  do  hope  you  have  improved  that  also.  I  wonder 
they  did  not  keep  you  in  New  York  awhile.  There  are 
so  many  more  chances  for  society." 

Gertrude  went  through  the  wide  hall  with  its  painted 
floor,  and  up  the  worn  stairs.  There  were  four  rooms  be- 
low and  a  summer  kitchen  ;  four  chambers  upstairs  with 
sloping  roof  and  with  windows  in  the  end.  She  and 
Agnes  shared  the  same  room.  There  was  a  large,  old- 
fashioned,  high-post  bedstead  that  reached  down  to  the 
slant  in  the  ceiling.  A  bureau,  a  dressing-table,  a  lounge, 
fashioned  and  covered  by  the  deft  hands  of  the  second 
daughter,  some  engravings,  curiously  framed,  one  in 
beautiful  silvery  grey  lichen.  The  old  chairs  had  chintz 
covers  and  looked  inviting. 

"O,  Agnes,  how  you  would  have  liked  Robin's  Point 
and  the  house.  It  seems  a  shame  for  me  to  have  had  it 
all!"  in  a  passionate,  half-regretful  tone.  "And  you 
have  just  stayed  here  and  drudged  !  " 

Gertrude  clasped  her  arms  around  her  sister  in  re- 
morseful tenderness,  and  kissed  the  flushed  cheek. 

"No,  I  do  not  call  it  drudging;  I  like  it,"  and  the 
face  brightened.  "And  I  have  been  furbishing  up  the 
parlor.  Mr.  Rowdon  made  me  a  frame  for  that  St.  Agnes 
you  brought  home  and  I  covered  it  with  a  strip  of  that 
wine-colored  poplin,  and  you  can't  think  how  beautiful  it 
looks.  He  made  a  new  little  table  and  we  have  oiled  and 
polished  it  until  you  would  think  it  fresh  from  a  store. 
And  I  have  covered  the  old  rocker  with  some  new,  pretty 


AN  OUTGROWING.  7 

cretonne  in  wood  colors  and  yellow,  with  glints  of  red. 
Mother  hated  dreadfully  to  have  the  brocade  covered 
up,  but  I  like  fresh,  clean  chintz  better  than  pretentious 
rags." 

"  What  a  treasure  you  are  to  a  home,  Agnes  !  I  take 
all  the  good  things  and  do  nothing  in  return.  But  when 
the  trunk  comes  I  have  some  remembrances  you  will  en- 
joy.    I  did  not  forget  you  with  all  the  good  times." 

"  I  suppose  those  people  are  all  very  rich." 

Agnes  sighed  at  the  end  of  her  question,  but  there  was 
no  envy  in  it. 

"Yes.  But  they  are  the  kind  of  people  you  never 
connect  with  money.  I  suppose  it  is  because  they  are  so 
accustomed  to  it  and  their  wants  are  all  gratified  before 
they  are  hardly  wants.  It  is  a  delightful  way  to  live.  If 
Aunt  Sampson  had  been  like  any  of  them  !  " 

"  I  must  go  down  and  look  after  the  supper.  And 
there  come  Virgie  and  Elsie.  O,  I  must  send  'Lonzo  for 
the  trunk." 

'Lonzo  was  a  big  shambling  fellow  who  gardened  and 
did  chores  for  the  neighbors. 

Gertrude  freshened  herself  up  a  bit,  brushed  her  hair 
and  put  on  a  clean  shirt  waist  she  found  in  the  drawer. 
Then  she  went  down  and  was  almost  smothered  with  a 
double  greeting  from  the  two  who  had  not  yet  arrived  at 
the  dignity  of  "teens." 

After  that  her  father,  who  shook  hands  cordially  and 
looked  her  all  over,  then  asked  if  he  could  have  supper 
right  away,  as  he  had  to  go  down  to  Gregory's  and  make 
an  estimate  on  some  lumber. 

So  they  had  supper  and  the  trunk  came.  There  was  a 
painting  by  Violet  Osborne,  a  group  of  the  four  girls, 
photographs  of  the  children,  books,  rare  shells,  a  sash 


8  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

for  Lu,  some  pretty  goods  for  waists,  ribbons,  lace  and 
chiffon. 

"  I'd  rather  have  had  a  silk  frock  than  all  the  stuff," 
declared  Lu,  disdainfully. 

"  These  were  gifts  of  friendship,"  replied  Gertrude, 
with  spirit.  "  I  was  fed  and  entertained,  but  there  was 
no  bargain  about  my  being  clothed." 

"Gertrude,  do  not  take  your  sister  up  in  that  sharp 
fashion,"  said  her  mother,  fretfully.  "I  have  known 
people  who  did  even  that  for  a  guest.  It  isn't  such  an 
uncommon  thing." 

"There  are  some  letters  for  Gertie,"  said  Agnes,  com- 
ing in,  though  she  had  heard  her  mother's  rather  shrill 
voice  in  the  little  kitchen.  It  was  soft  in  its  lower  tones, 
indolent,  but  when  she  was  not  pleased,  and  raised  it 
a  little,  it  lost  its  pleasant  sound. 

"O  yes,  three  !  "  exclaimed  Virgie.  "I  brought  one 
in  this  morning.     I  put  them  on  the  tray " 

"I  took  them  in  my  room.  They  are — but  it  can't 
make  any  difference  to-night.  And  really,  you  ought  to 
tell  us  about  your  visit  and  the  people  you  met.  Was 
that  club  composed  of  men,  alone  ?  But  of  course  there 
were  plenty  of  married  women  to  matronize  you  all.  Are 
those  other  girls  in  society?  " 

"O  no.     They  are  going  back  to  school." 

"Then,  Gertrude,  I  think  you  ought  to  have  done 
something  for  yourself.  There  are  so  many  of  you  girls, 
and  your  poor  father  has  his  hands  full.  I  don't  know 
what  would  become  of  you  all  if  anything  should  happen 
to  him.  And  you  have  had  the  best  of  everything.  You 
are  like  your  father,  you  never  can  see  a  golden  oppor- 
tunity." 

"I'll  have  to  earn  my  golden  opportunities  myself,  I 


AN  OUTGROWING.  9 

am  afraid,"  responded  Gertrude,  with  a  tremolo  in  her 
voice  that  was  meant  to  do  duty  for  a  half  laugh.  "I 
have  not  the  beauty  to  captivate  people  off-hand.  And 
everybody  seemed  to  think  more  of  fun  and  dancing  than 
sentiment. ' ' 

"  Some  of  the  most  successful  women  have  not  been 
handsome.  I  remember  when  I  was  young  there  was 
one  girl  who  had  only  to  raise  her  finger  and  men  would 
flock  to  her.  And  she  was  very  plain.  I'm  sure  I  don't 
see  why  you  should  all  take  after  your  father  and  the 
Sampson  tribe ' ' 

"The  Maurice  tribe  it  must  have  been,"  interposed 
Lu,  with  her  giggle.  "Aunt  Sampson  claims  that  she 
was  a  handsome  young  woman,  and  she  was  thirty-five 
when  she  married.  Goodness  me !  Even  at  that  rate 
Gertie  would  have  sixteen  years'  grace." 

"  Luella,  I  would  try  and  cultivate  a  little  sense,"  said 
her  mother,  sharply.  "  I  hope  none  of  you  will  ever  live 
to  know  the  trial  of  a  family  of  girls.  And  if  Gertrude 
had  been  a  boy  the  family  fortunes  would  have  been  as- 
sured." 

There  was  a  step  on  the  porch,  and  a  figure  loomed  in 
the  half-light.  Agnes  held  up  her  hand  suddenly  to  her 
mother,  who  turned  and  confronted  Mr.  Rowdon. 

"  So  the  truant  has  returned.  Why,  Gertrude,  how 
blooming  you  look,  and  sunburned  !  A  good  healthy 
color,  and  your  eyes  shine  like  beads.  I  suppose  the 
young  sparks  you  have  been  with  would  say  stars  or 
something,  but  I'm  a  plain,  old-fashioned  fellow,  and  say 
the  first  thing  that  pops  into  my  head  !  Had  a  first-class 
time,  I  s'pose.  I  dare  say  you  will  hardly  be  able  to 
get  back  to  the  level  of  us  common  folks." 

Such    unstudied    remarks   made    it   difficult  for  Mrs. 


io  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Maurice  to  smile  on  her  prospective  son-in-law.  Gertie 
did  deserve  something  higher  after  all  her  education. 
She  was  prepared  with  many  little  snubs  if  the  eldest 
daughter  had  returned  with  an  engagement  ring  on  her 
finger,  but  she  had  not,  and  the  mother  refrained  from 
motives  of  policy. 

They  all  went  out  on  the  porch.  There  was  a  long 
bench  under  the  windows.  Gertrude  slipped  into  the 
end  seat,  and  had  her  arm  around  little  Elsie,  so  she 
was  flanked  on  both  sides.  Mr.  Rowdon  took  the  big 
armchair  and  began  to  question  Gertrude  in  a  rather 
jocose  way.  There  were  many  entertaining  things  to  say 
of  course,  and  she  exerted  herself  to  cover  the  whole 
ground,  which  she  did  until  her  father  returned.  Agnes 
had  finished  with  the  dishes  and  came  out. 

"Lu,"  Gertie  whispered,  "go  in  mother's  room  and 
get  those  letters,  won't  you,  please?" 

She  returned  presently  with  two  of  them. 

"  I  can't  find  the  other  one,"  she  said.  "  These  laid 
on  mother's  bureau.  The  other  had  a  sort  of  bluish  en- 
velope, and  was  sealed  with  wax,  and  just  said  in  the 
corner  return  to  some  place,  Philadelphia." 

The  two  were  from  the  school  agency.  Elsie  had 
dropped  asleep  on  her  sister's  arm.  She  was  a  slim  little 
thing,  small  for  her  ten  years. 

"I'll  take  her  to  bed,"  said  Gertrude,  glad  of  an  ex- 
cuse to  get  away. 

When  she  had  her  little  sister  safely  consigned  to  her 
pillow,  and  asleep  in  an  instant,  she  opened  her  letters. 
One  was  from  a  Western  boarding-school  recently  started. 
In  return  for  teaching  numerous  English  branches,  while 
the  salary  was  low,  there  would  be  compensating  advan- 
tages in  pursuing  the  studies  of  music,  French,  German, 


AN  OUTGROWING.  n 

and  some  collegiate  branches.  The  other  wanted  every- 
thing, experience  and  a  college  degree,  with  a  salary  of 
twenty  dollars  per  month  and  board. 

"I  couldn't  fill  that,  and  no  doubt  I  should  get  half 
starved  in  the  other  place,"  mused  the  girl.  "  I  have 
let  the  chance  for  governess  slip,  and  it  does  seem  as 
if  no  one  in  the  world  really  wanted  me.  To  spend 
thirty  or  forty  dollars  going  West,  and  then  perhaps  be 
stranded ' ' 

Had  she  been  a  foolish  girl  to  let  a  little  scruple  of 
pride  and  honor  interfere  when  she  might  have  been  the 
wife  of  a  charming  and  attractive  man,  and — yes,  in  spite 
of  the  years  between  she  could  have  loved  him  very 
dearly.  She  buried  her  face  in  the  pillow  and  felt  the 
overflow  of  tears.  She  was  miserable  after  all  her  happy 
summer.  Perhaps  if  she  had  stayed  at  home  she  would 
never  have  known — but  she  knew  now  what  love  could  be 
like.  She  had  made  a  tremendous  sacrifice  with  the 
wastefulness  of  youth,  and  there  was  no  approving  con- 
science to  sustain  her.  She  might  as  well  have  been 
happy  and  prosperous  and  beloved.  O,  was  she  quite  sure 
Constantine  Murray  truly  loved  her  and  had  not  been 
amusing  himself?  Ah,  that  was  the  sting,  the  half  doubt. 
But  if  she  had  accepted  him  it  would  all  have  been  set- 
tled and  she  knew  he  would  have  proven  the  very  soul  of 
honor. 

"Gertrude,  mother  wants  you  to  come  downstairs," 
was  the  peremptory  summons  from  Luella.  "Whatever 
have  you  been  doing  up  here  this  ever  so  long  ?  " 

She  went  down  without  a  word.  Virginia  sat  by  the 
dining-table  reading.  Her  father  had  excused  himself 
and  retired ;  he  was  always  fatigued  when  night  came. 

"Mr.  Rowdon  wants  to  hear  about  your  journey,  Ger- 


12  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

trin Ir,"  her  mother  began  in  an  amiable  tone  that  to  her 
ear  had  a  smothered  anger  in  it. 

"  Yes,  you  might  about  as  well  say  Europe  to  me  as 
Maine, ' '  announced  that  gentleman.  "I've  had  an  idea  all 
along  that  it  was  up  northeast,  and  freezing  cold  ten  months 
of  the  year,  with  miles  and  miles  of  pine  barrens  and  timber 
of  various  sorts.  The  idea  of  any  one  going  off  there 
when  there  was  Cape  May  and  Atlantic  City,  and  Long 
Branch  if  you  want  to  go  north,  and  all  Delaware  and 
Maryland  shore.  But  I  declare,  I  said  to  Agnes,  your 
letters  beat  me  all  out.  You  were  not  drawing  on  your 
imagination  now,  were  you  ?  " 

"The  half  has  not  been  told,"  Gertrude  began  with 
an  effort  at  gayety.  ' '  You  see  the  world  is  so  large  and 
there  are  a  great  many  people  in  it.  They  search  for 
pleasure  as  well  as  gold  and  diamonds.  They  go  up  to 
Alaska  and  over  to  Africa,  so  why  shouldn't  those  who  do 
not  care  so  much  for  the  gold  and  diamonds  have  the 
pleasure?  " 

"Well — I  s'pose  it  must  be  pleasure  to  them,  but  I 
don't  believe  I'd  care  for  it.  And  you  mean  to  say  that 
Maine  is  like — like " 

"It  is  beautiful,  all  the  long  coast  dotted  with  islands 
and  bays  and  points  and  vessels  of  every  kind,  yachts  in 
gala  array,  steamboats  flying  to  and  fro,  fishing  boats, 
until  it  looks  as  if  half  the  world  had  gathered  there  on 
a  picnic.  And  Mount  Desert  Island  is  just  full  of  society 
people  with  hotels  and  cottages." 

"  Well !  well !  I  can't  get  over  it.  I've  always  stayed 
at  home,  though  I  did  once  go  to  New  York,  but  every- 
thing seemed  dreadful  high,  and  Maria,  she  thought 
'twas  such  an  awful  wicked  city.  But  she  wouldn't  even 
go  to  Philadelphia.     I  think  Maria  did  get  to  be  awful 


AN  OUTGROWING.  13 

close  in  those  last  years.  And  I've  about  made  up  my 
mind  to  enjoy  life,  but  I  don't  believe  I  want  to  go  gali- 
vantin'  around  in  strange  places  very  much.  A  good 
home  is  about  my  idea  of  comfort." 

"  A  good  home  is  an  excellent  thing  for  a  man,  and 
especially  for  a  woman.  Parents  die  and  old  homes  must 
be  broken  up,  so  it  is  wisdom  to  form  the  new  ones.  I 
have  no  patience  with  the  new  education  of  girls  that 
makes  them  clerks  and  telegraph  operators  and  what  not, 
and  leaves  them  utterly  incompetent  to  manage  a  home. 
I  mean  that  my  girls  shall  know  how  to  make  the  men 
they  marry  happy  and  comfortable." 

"Very  good,  Mrs.  Maurice.  Excellent,"  and  he  rubbed 
his  hands  together.  "Comfortable,  that's  the  word. 
Now  Maria  was  a  first-rate  housekeeper,  a  little  close  in 
some  things,  but  I  don't  really  think  she  understood  com- 
fort. Of  course  I  couldn't  get  along  for  steady  company 
with  that  Betsey  Young,  but  then  I  don't  mean  to ;  "  and 
he  gave  a  soft  chuckle. 

"O  no,  of  course  not,"  said  Mrs.  Maurice,  breaking 
the  rather  long  silence  with  an  air  of  conscious  knowl- 
edge. 

"I  don't  s'pose  there  is  much  raised  in  the  way  of 
farming  and  garden  stuff  up  there  in  Maine  ?  And  the 
winters  must  be  just  fearful." 

This  was  addressed  to  Gertrude. 

"I  shouldn't  care  to  spend  a  winter  on  the  coast, 
though  the  natives  do  not  complain.  The  winter  storms 
must  be  magnificent." 

"I  guess  we'll  keep  to  our  own  tight  little  Delaware. 
We  have  some  pretty  fine  storms  for  people  who  enjoy 
such  things.  But  I  have  heard  that  sailors  were  not 
really  fond  of  storms." 


i4  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

The  conversation  languished  and  Agnes  came  to  its  as- 
sistance. Mr.  Rowdon  dropped  into  a  silence  unusual 
for  him.  He  glanced  first  at  one  girl,  then  at  the  other. 
Every  moment  Gertrude  seemed  more  of  a  stranger  to 
him,  and  there  was  a  dawning  sense  of  discomfort.  His 
summer  had  been  very  pleasant.  He  had  considered 
himself  in  some  sense  half  or  more  engaged  to  Gertrude. 
Her  parents  looked  favorably  on  his  suit.  It  had  taken 
her  by  surprise  and  she  had  said — well,  he  couldn't  quite 
recall  whether  she  had  declined  his  proposal,  or  had  it 
under  consideration,  as  her  mother  delicately  put  the  fact. 
With  such  a  houseful  of  girls  he  had  an  idea  any  of 
them  would  be  ready  to  marry  at  a  good  opportunity 
since  there  was  nothing  more  to  expect  from  this  queer 
old  rich  aunt  whose  annuity  would  die  with  her.  But  he 
had  a  feeling  now  that  Agnes  would  make  a  man  much 
more  comfortable.  He  felt  so  friendly  and  at  ease  with 
her.     She  was  an  excellent  housekeeper,  too. 

The  French  clock  on  the  parlor  mantel  chimed  out  the 
half-hour.  People  in  the  small  town  were  primitive  in 
their  habits.  He  would  have  a  little  walk,  a  look  around 
to  see  that  things  inside  and  out  were  safe,  and  he  liked 
to  be  in  bed  by  ten  o'clock.  So  he  rose  and  said  good- 
night. 

Mrs.  Maurice  retired  to  her  room  in  a  dignified  man- 
ner. She  would  plan  her  talk  with  Gertrude  the  next 
morning,  and  if  there  was  any  fancy  or  any  opportunity 
she  would  be  sure  to  find  it  out.  She  prided  herself 
upon  her  penetration,  and  as  is  often  the  case  she  had 
very  little. 

Agnes  went  out  to  the  kitchen  to  arrange  a  few  mat- 
ters for  morning,  and  then  they  trooped  upstairs.  How 
bright  and  cheerful  she  was  ! 


AN  OUTGROWING.  15 

"Don't  you  think  Mr.  Rowdon  has  improved  wonder- 
fully?" she  asked,  with  an  eager  smile.  "You  know 
we  used  to  laugh  at  his  peculiarities,  and  father  said  they 
just  hated  his  skimping  ways  at  the  yard.  But  I  do  think 
it  was  Miss  Maria's  influence.  He  has  built  a  pretty 
porch  on  two  sides  of  his  house,  and  he  is  talking  of 
putting  in  a  bow-window.  And  you  would  hardly  be- 
lieve how  fond  he  is  of  nice  little  things.  He  is  growing 
quite  ambitious  to  be  like  other  folks." 

Gertrude  yawned  and  began  to  take  down  her  hair. 
What  had  inspired  this  praise? 

"I  expect  you  are  just  tired  out.  We  won't  talk  an- 
other bit,  for  there  will  be  all  to-morrow." 

"Agnes,  no  one  half  appreciates  your  goodness.  I 
have  accepted  all  your  sacrifices  without  a  thought  and 
made  no  return.     I  am  a  selfish  heathen  !  " 

"  I  don't  know  as  there  has  been  much  real  sacrifice," 
and  one  could  almost  feel  the  smile  that  inspired  the 
cheery  tone.  It  pricked  the  elder's  heart.  "  I  have  quite 
trained  Lu  in  some  housekeeping  ways  this  summer,  and 
if  you  had  been  home  she  would  not  have  seen  the  neces- 
sity of  taking  hold." 

"O  I  wish " 

There  was  a  silence,  and  Agnes  knelt  down  to  say  her 
brief  prayer.  What  did  she,  Gertrude,  wish  ?  All  man- 
ner of  impossible  things.  They  haunted  her  pillow  after 
the  lights  were  out,  and  even  when  Agnes  was  drawing 
the  long,  regular  inspirations  of  slumber.  Why  had  fate 
sent  Aunt  Sampson  with  her  promising  proposals  that 
turned  to  dry  ashes  in  their  fruition  ?  For  if  she  had 
never  gone  away  from  home  and  been  content  with  her 
surroundings  and — yes — married  and  spent  an  equable 
humdrum  life  instead  of  feeling  capable  of  something 


1 6  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

higher  and  wider  and  truer,  and  never  being  able  to 
reach  it !  She  had  hoped  the  summer  would  lead  to  a 
certain  possibility,  not  an  engagement  of  marriage,  but  a 
way  to  earn  her  own  living  and  a  little  beside.  There 
were  girls  and  women  doing  it  cheerfully,  honorably.  O, 
how  did  they  find  standing-room  ? 

She  tormented  herself  with  the  everlasting  questions 
that  youth  so  often  fights  through,  to  find  them  unanswer- 
able until  the  light  of  experience  is  turned  upon  them, 
sometimes  too  late  to  be  of  real  service.  Yet  all  ex- 
perience strengthens  and  enriches  unless  it  be  bitter  in- 
deed. But  just  now  she  could  not  see  any  real  purpose 
in  the  golden  summer,  that  had  raised  her  above  the 
petty  round.  Perhaps  her  mother  was  right,  she  had  not 
made  the  most  of  her  advantages. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHAT   THE   MORNING    BROUGHT. 

"IT  THEN  Gertrude  Maurice  came  downstairs  the  next 
*  *       morning,  Agnes  and  her  father  were  sitting  over 
a  cozy  breakfast.     He  nodded  a  welcome. 

"  You  see  Agnes  has  taken  good  care  of  your  admirer," 
he  said,  jocosely.  "  Why  the  whole  town  is  talking  of 
the  change  in  him.  Old  maids  ought  never  be  allowed 
to  boss  a  family.  If  Maria  Rowdon  had  lived  he  would 
just  have  grown  queerer  and  queerer,  and  now  he's  get- 
ting so  sensible  and  reasonable  they're  'most  sorry  down 
to  the  yard  that  they  pushed  him  out.  Tom  Lindsley 
wants  him  to  start  again  with  him,  but  there  isn't  busi- 
ness enough  in  this  town  for  two  firms.  You  girls  try  to 
persuade  him  out  of  it." 

He  gave  Gertrude  a  meaning  look  as  he  rose  and  took 
his  hat.  Lu  entered  the  room  at  the  same  instant,  and 
the  two  younger  girls  came  straggling  along  sleepily. 

Agnes  made  some  toast  and  poured  a  cup  of  coffee  and 
asked  Lu  to  take  it  in  to  her  mother,  who  never  rose  until 
later  in  the  morning. 

Gertrude  felt  as  if  a  net  was  being  drawn  about  her. 
There  was  a  curious  constriction  in  her  throat.  Had  all 
other  opportunities  failed  that  she  might  see  clearly  that 
this  was  her  duty  ?  What  really  made  duty  ?  Must  one 
thrust  aside  the  longing  for  something  higher  and  be  con- 
tent with  second  best  ?     O,  surely  not  in  marriage  ! 

*7 


1 8  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"Here's  that  other  letter,"  exclaimed  Lu.  "It  had 
dropped  down  behind  the  lace  box  on  mamma's 
bureau." 

There  was  something  about  the  missive  that  appealed 
at  once  to  Gertrude.  The  envelope  was  a  delicate  grey 
in  tint,  and  in  spite  of  its  journey  with  all  sorts  and  con- 
ditions of  mail  matter,  it  had  preserved  an  intangible 
suggestion  of  fragrance.  Then  too,  it  was  sealed  with 
wax,  and  it  had  a  New  York  postmark.  Her  heart  was 
up  in  her  throat.  O  what  a  silly  girl !  She  opened  it 
resolutely  and  read  it  over  the  second  time  before  she 
could  grasp  its  meaning,  and  then  she  gave  a  long  sigh  of 
delight. 

"O  girls — listen.  This  is  splendid!  A  lady  who 
travels  a  great  deal  wants  a  secretary  who  can  write  a 
good  hand,  answer  a  letter,  read  aloud,  copy,  and  make 
herself  useful.  And  Mrs.  St.  John  recommended  me. 
Wasn't  it  lovely  in  her?  But — see  here.  She  came  to 
Philadelphia, — last  evening  it  must  have  been,  and  asks 
me  to  meet  her  any  time  after  twelve,  to-day.  O,  I 
shall  have  to  get  ready  at  once.  The  noon  train  would 
make  me  too  late." 

"  Let  me  see. ' '  Agnes  held  out  her  hand  for  the  letter. 
Gertrude  gave  it  unhesitatingly. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  queer  if  it  was  something  satisfactory  ? 
I  like  the  writing  and  the  wording.  And— if  I  should 
suit " 

"Would  you  go?"  asked  Agnes. 

"Why,  of  course.  It  would  be  ever  so  much  more 
agreeable  than  teaching,  which  I  should  always  despise. 
And  Mrs.  St.  John  would  not  endorse  anything  that  was 
not  proper  and  right." 

"And  to  travel!"  cried   Lu.     "Well,   you  do  drop 


WHAT  THE  MORNING  BROUGHT.  19 

down  en  beds  of  clover.  First  going  to  school,  then  go- 
ing to  Maine,  and  now — well  you  may  go  to  Europe." 

Gertrude  smiled  a  little.  There  had  been  some  thorns 
in  the  clover  beds. 

"  I  must  go  and  get  ready.     O,  there  is  mamma." 

"I'll  take  the  note  in  and  tell  her.  You  think  you 
must  go,  Gertie?"  There  was  hesitation  in  look  and 
tone. 

"It  is  a  matter  of  life — liberty  and  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness.    O,  Agnes,  how  good  you  are  !  " 

She  gave  her  a  fond  squeeze  and  kissed  her  warmly. 
The  Maurice  girls  rarely  kissed  out  of  pure  gratitude  or 
tenderness,  merely  from  a  sense  of  duty. 

Gertie  flew  upstairs  and  rearranged  her  hair,  took  some 
faded  flowers  out  of  her  hat  and  put  in  a  black  velvet 
bow,  considered  her  frocks  and  thought  the  brown  cloth 
the  most  business-y.  She  had  some  fresh  brown  gloves. 
How  hard  it  was  always  to  be  thinking  about  your 
clothes  ! 

Agnes  came  up. 

"Mother  is  very  much  opposed  to  your  going,"  she 
began,  but  her  tone  was  not  discouraging.  "  You  may 
not  suit,  and  you  may  not  like  this  Mrs.  Townsend,  and 
anyhow  you  will  come  back  by  evening.  Gertie — there  is 
another  question  to  decide." 

"  I  have  decided.  O,  don't  talk  it  over  now,  I  can- 
not hear  a  word  about  it,"  and  her  tone  was  a  beseeching 
protest. 

"  It  will  be  as  well  to  put  on  your  hat  before  you  go  in 
to  mamma.  Don't  ruffle  her  any  more  than  you  can 
help.  I  suppose  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago  girls  and 
family  relations  were  different,  and  you  know,  Gertie, 
how  bitter   mamma  feels  about  girls  going  out  in  the 


20  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

world  to  do  anything.  I  should  be  frightened  to  death. 
I'd  rather  scrub  floors  and  cook  and  iron — but  you  are 
different.     And  you  know  more  about  outside  matters." 

There  was  a  scene  in  "  mamma's  room."  She  was  in 
a  pretty  white  morning  gown,  with  yards  and  yards  of 
sheer  ruffling,  for  she  despised  cheap  laces.  And  she 
wished  Mr.  Maurice  was  at  home  to  forbid  Gertrude  go- 
ing on  this  wild  escapade  to  a  strange  city,  alone,  and 
meeting  a  stranger  she  knew  nothing  about,  who  might 
have  some  deep  laid  scheme  to  entrap  her.  And  this 
plan  of  seeking  her  fortune  like  any  runaway  boy  was  de- 
testable and  shameful ! 

"But  I  went  up  to  New  York  and  nothing  happened 
to  me.  And  I  have  gone  to  school  alone.  Mamma,  the 
world  is  so  different  from  your  idea  of  it,  and  with  my 
education  I  ought  to  do  something,  when  there  are  so 
many  of  us." 

"You  can  marry,"  said  the  mother,  with  withering 
emphasis.  "Neither  your  father  nor  I  will  ever  consent 
to  your  going  about  the  world  with  a  strange  woman." 

There  was  no  further  time  for  discussion.  Gertrude 
began  to  put  on  her  gloves  and  said  she  would  return  be- 
fore dark,  trying  to  get  the  same  train  in  which  she  came 
home  yesterday.  Mrs.  Maurice  went  into  a  hysteric,  and 
Agnes  came  to  console  her. 

Gertie  hurried  onward.  Just  before  she  reached  the 
station  she  encountered  Mr.  Rowdon. 

There  was  a  brief  explanation.  "  If  I  should  suit,  I 
shall  accept  this  position,"  announced  Miss  Maurice,  de- 
cisively. 

The  man  stared  a  little.  The  train  was  not  in  and  he 
stepped  up  on  the  platform  with  her. 

"Let   us  walk   down  here,"  he  began.     "Gertrude, 


WHAT  THE  MORNING  BROUGHT.  21 

you  know  I  asked  you  to  marry  me  early  in  the  summer. 
I'm  not  one  to  back  out.  No  one  can  bring  it  up  against 
me  that  I  don't  keep  my  word.     You  were  not  sure 

then " 

"O    yes,"    she    interrupted.     "You    know    I    told 


yOU " 

"But  you  might  have  changed  your  mind.  There's 
an  old  song  that  used  to  be  sung  when  I  was  a  young 
fellow,  '  Absence  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder.  .  .  .' 
I  wouldn't  have  thought  of  saying  a  word  to  any  one  else, 
until  you  were  here  to  take  me,  or  leave  me  alone 

"I  should  not  make  the  kind  of  wife  you  need,"  she 
replied  with  a  kindliness  that  swept  over  her  like  a  wave 
of  respect  for  him,  that  she  had  never  experienced  be- 
fore. He  certainly  had  a  nice  sense  of  honor  if  it  was  ex- 
pressed in  a  brief  business-like  manner. 

"You  can  marry  some  woman  who  will  study  your 
happiness,  who  will  make  the  kind  of  home  you  like.  I 
should  be  restless  and  discontented  and  want  a  hundred 
things  you  care  nothing  about.  So  you  are  very  wise  to 
think  no  more  of  the  matter.  I  am  glad  we  had  this 
talk  so  soon,  and  now  we  will  consider  the  subject 
settled." 

"  Settled.  Yes.  You  see  I  was  a  bit  hasty.  You 
were  the  oldest,  and  your  father  will  be  relieved  to  have 
some  of  you  settled  in  life.  He's  had  a  rather  hard  tug 
while  the  rest  of  us  have  made  the  money.  And  I've 
liked  you  girls " 

The  train  shrieked  in  the  distance. 

"  We  shall  always  be  very  friendly,  I  am  sure.  And  I 
do  hope  you  will  be  happy." 

"  You  have  no  hard  feelings  about  it?" 

"  O  no,  no ;  "  with  a  decisive  smile. 


22  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

He  put  her  on  the  train  rather  awkwardly — he  never 
had  been  a  ladies'  man.  But  there  was  a  touch  of 
honesty  and  earnestness  about  him  and  a  desire  to  do  his 
best,  to  meet  the  standard  of  others  rather  than  compel 
them  to  the  usages  of  his  hitherto  narrow  and  indifferent 
life. 

Gertrude  Maurice  dropped  into  her  seat  and  laughed 
in  a  half-hysterical  fashion,  that  was  hardly  amusement. 
She  had  been  politely,  kindly  given  up,  when  she  had 
been  anticipating  a  scene  from  the  very  obtuseness  of  the 
man's  nature.     Did  he  know  he  loved  Agnes? 

Would  Agnes  marry  him  ?  She  was  younger — oh 
how  many  years  there  would  be  between  them  !  Yet 
Agnes  was  not  young.  When  it  came  to  that,  she 
really  was  more  experienced,  better  balanced,  a  better 
housekeeper  and  manager  than  mamma.  For  three  years 
she  really  had  been  the  head  of  the  working  household. 
Ah,  how  could  any  young  girl  give  up  all  her  youthful 
life.  People  were  very  different.  But  what  an  odd 
ending  to  her  first  marriage  proposal ! 

Then  she  speculated  upon  what  Mrs.  Townsend  could 
be  like.  There  were  stories  about  the  trials  of  compan- 
ions whose  positions  were  little  better  than  that  of  a  maid, 
and  before  she  reached  her  journey's  end  her  courage 
and  hopes  had  fallen  considerably.  She  took  the  car  her 
letter  had  mentioned  and  stopped  at  the  corner.  The 
hotel  was  a  few  doors  up;  a  rather  plain,  unostentatious 
place.  She  was  shown  to  the  reception-room,  and  sent 
her  card  to  Mrs.  Townsend.  And  a  moment  or  two 
later  a  tall,  fine-looking  woman,  with  snowy-white,  wavy 
hair,  and  peachy  pink  cheeks,  who  carried  herself  with  a 
grand  air  that  was  far  removed  from  haughtiness,  crossed 
the  room  and  held  out  her  hand  cordially. 


WHAT  THE  MORNING   BROUGHT.  23 

"Miss  Maurice,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  so  prompt. 
Business  will  do  one  thing  for  women,  and  that  will  be 
to  make  them  consider  the  value  of  time,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  meeting  an  engagement  at  the  appointed  hour. 
Come  up  to  my  room.  We  will  have  a  little  lunch  there 
and  talk  over  the  prospect." 

The  voice  had  an  inspiriting  sound.  The  ample  figure, 
finely  proportioned,  the  smiling,  spirited  face,  and  the  in- 
describable something  that  was  good  breeding,  familiar- 
ity with  society,  and  the  fine  art  of  pleasing  combined, 
made  Mrs.  Townsend  a  charming  person.  Gertrude  felt 
fascinated  and  was  a  little  frightened  as  well. 

"You  graduated  at  Kingsley  Hall,"  she  began.  "As 
it  is  not  a  college,  I  suppose  you  do  not  know  every- 
thing?" 

"  O  no.  Indeed  the  answer  to  some  applications  I  re- 
ceived from  schools,  convinced  me  that  I  knew  very 
little,  even  if  I  was  on  the  honor  roll." 

"I  do  not  want  a  secretary  who  knows  more  than  I 
do  myself;"  and  the  lady  gave  a  piquant  smile.  "  I  had 
one  who  was  quite  wise,  and  corrected  me  and  my  letters, 
and  my  talks.  I  do  not  always  lecture.  I  did  not  enjoy 
it.  In  my  time  girls  rarely  went  to  college.  But  the 
first  and  most  important  question  is — have  you  a  lover?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  returned  Gertrude,  though  she  felt 
her  color  rise. 

"  My  last  year's  secretary  had  a  lover.  She  was  thirty- 
three  or  four,  and  I  thought  entirely  safe.  But  the  letters 
they  wrote  to  each  other  were  perfectly  appalling.  He 
was  some  four  or  five  years  younger,  not  that  I  object  to 
that,  but  they  seemed  to  have  all  the  enthusiasm  of  six- 
teen. So  I  decided  I  would  not  have  an  engaged  young 
woman,  nor  a  very  pretty  one." 


24  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"I  certainly  can  fill  the  requirements  on  both  of  those 
points,"  said  Gertrude,  with  frank  amusement. 

"You  were  very  well  recommended.  In  fact  I  had 
quite  a  curiosity  to  see  what  you  were  like." 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  Mrs.  St.  John.  I  am  the  eldest 
of  five  girls,  and  my  father  has  only  a  moderate  salary. 
So  I  am  anxious  to  do  whatever  I  can." 

"Mrs.  St.  John.  O  yes,"  Mrs.  Townsend  nodded  as 
if  with  some  afterthought.  "  She  considered  that  you 
would  make  a  very  good  secretary.  I  wanted  some  one 
who  wrote  a  plain  hand,  and  who  had  not  much  personal 
vanity.     I  was  extremely  gratified  on  the  latter  point." 

"  I  have  not  much  to  be  vain  about.  I  am  just  ordi- 
nary. Perhaps  it  is  the  lack  of  charms,  rather  than  vir- 
tue." 

The  luncheon  came  in.  It  was  quite  a  feast  with  this 
delightful  hostess.  Then  Mrs.  Townsend  explained  her 
duties  more  at  length. 

"  I  have  so  many  letters  and  they  are  all  so  much  alike 
that  one  soon  gets  used  to  answering  them.  They  are 
on  subjects  that  I  can't  be  bothered  with,  and  yet  need  a 
reply.  Then  there  are  all  sorts  of  begging  letters  from 
the  poor  woman  who  beseeches  you  to  save  her  little 
home  from  foreclosure,  to  the  young  woman  who  wants 
you  to  send  her  abroad  for  a  musical  or  an  art  education." 

"  Do  they  ask  such  things  as  that  of  you  ?  "  exclaimed 
Gertrude,  in  surprise. 

Mrs.  Townsend  laughed.  "O,  you  will  find  no  end 
of  queer  things.  It  will  be  a  liberal  education  in  the 
high  art  of  soliciting,  I  assure  you.  A  little  experience 
will  teach  you  to  discriminate,  and  you  will  soon  be  able 
to  answer  them  without  consulting  me.  Then  there  are 
invitations  and  business  matters.     I  shall  want  you  to 


WHAT  THE  MORNING  BROUGHT.  25 

look  over  the  newspapers  and  see  what  other  wise  and 
learned  women  are  doing,  and  sometimes  to  cut  out  items 
and  arrange  them  so  that  I  shall  merely  have  to  glance 
over  them.  Then  I  like  to  have  some  one  read  aloud, 
sometimes  read  me  to  sleep.  O  it  will  be  no  sinecure,  I 
assure  you." 

"I  shall  be  quite  willing  to  work.  It  sounds  very  in- 
teresting," and  Gertrude's  face  was  alight  with  earnest- 
ness. 

"I  suppose  it  will  interest  at  first,  but  you  see  you  will 
be  expected  to  work  with  the  same  fervor  when  you  are 
bored,  even.  And  there  are  callers  to  entertain.  Then 
— I  shall  expect  a  good  deal  of  discretion  and  reticence 
on  your  part.  You  must  learn  to  talk  without  saying 
anything  in  particular.  Indeed,  what  attracted  me  in 
the  list  of  your  virtues  was  that  your  reticence  was  espe- 
cially mentioned." 

"Mrs.  St.  John  was  very  kind.  I  don't  mind  saying 
that  I  was  rather  awkwardly  placed  at  school  and  I 
learned  to  keep  my  own  counsel.  I  was  a  poor  girl 
among  those  in  good  circumstances,"  and  Gertrude 
flushed.  "  My  father  had  expected  to  be  heir  to  a  con- 
siderable fortune  and  missed  it,  so  we  girls  must  make 
our  own  way  in  the  world." 

Mrs.  Townsend  nodded  in  a  kind  of  approving  fashion. 
For  all  her  apparent  ease  she  was  studying  her  guest 
closely. 

' '  I  suppose  you  have  not  seen  much  of  the  world 
then?" 

"  I  had  a  lovely  time  this  summer  with  some  girls  who 
were  at  school.  They  invited  me  to  share  their  summer- 
ing off  the  coast  of  Maine.  It  was  delightful  beyond 
description — with   their  mothers  and  fathers  who  were 


26  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

charming  and  cultivated  people.  Do  you  know  of  a  Mrs. 
Drayton,  who  has  done  a  good  deal  of  literary  work?  " 

"  O  yes,  I  have  met  her.  She  was  at  one  time  cpiite  a 
star  but  of  late  years  she  has  settled  into  domesticity.  I 
like  Mr.  Drayton.     And  the  philanthropic  Carews?" 

"They  were  there,  at  least  Mrs.  Carew  and  the  chil- 
dren, and  the  doctor  just  at  the  last.  And  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Amory." 

"  The  artist  and  his  handsome  wife !  Why,  Miss 
Maurice,  you  have  been  in  quite  swell  society.  We  shall 
have  some  people  to  discuss  when  other  subjects  are  worn 
threadbare.  And  now  since  we  seem  to  have  finished 
our  lunch,  come  and  write  some  letters  for  me." 

The  letters  were  satisfactory.  Gertrude  Maurice  was 
not  effusive,  and  answered  some  imaginary  epistles  quite 
to  the  point.  She  proved  to  be  a  very  good  reader. 
There  was  a  certain  frankness  and  utter  absence  of  strain- 
ing after  effect  that  pleased  Mrs.  Townsend. 

"Now,"  said  she,  "I  am  going  up  to  New  York  this 
evening.  I  think  you  will  suit  me  very  well,  but  as  you 
are  not  of  age  I  will  draw  up  a  little  agreement  that  I 
should  like  your  father  to  sign.  I  am  due  in  Chicago 
the  last  of  the  month,  then  St.  Louis,  Denver,  and  so  on 
to  California  where  I  shall  probably  remain  three  months. 
I  shall  not  return  to  New  York  under  a  year  in  all  prob- 
ability, and  in  that  time  I  do  not  want  to  make  any 
change,  and  you  must  not  have  any  lovers.  I  can  refer 
your  father  to  some  Washington  people,  or  since  you 
know  the  Draytons  it  may  be  satisfactory?" 

"  O  yes,  that  would  be  satisfactory,"  Gertrude  an- 
swered, absently.  She  was  overwhelmed  with  the  pros- 
pect. And  when  the  salary  was  mentioned  she  seemed 
quite  a  rich  woman   in  her  own  eyes.     That  they  all 


WHAT  THE  MORNING  BROUGHT  27 

would  consent  was  beyond  any  doubt,  though  her  mother 
would  be  full  of  objections,  but  she  smiled  inwardly  over 
their  flimsiness. 

There  was  not  much  more  time,  for  Gertrude  had  to 
take  her  train.  They  parted  mutually  pleased.  The 
young  girl  had  interested  the  older  woman  deeply.  She 
had  a  little  curiosity  about  another  person  to  serve,  as 
well. 

It  seemed  to  Miss  Maurice  as  if  she  must  pinch  herself 
now  and  then  to  make  sure  of  her  identity.  Was  she 
the  same  girl  returning  to  the  sleepy  town  yesterday, 
thrusting  pleasure  and  exquisite  memories  and  friendship 
into  one  deep,  dismal  grave  !  Was  she  to  go  to  fairy 
lands  that  she  had  never  even  dreamed  of,  to  have  a  life 
interesting  beyond  measure,  and  the  companionship  of 
such  a  woman  as  Mrs.  Townsend  ! 
Lu  came  down  to  the  train. 

"  O,"  she  cried,  "  you  look  as  if  you  had  found  a  bag 
of  gold  that  had  been  buried  a  hundred  years  and  out- 
lawed. It  wasn't  a  fraud,  then?  Mother  was  sure  the 
wicked  world  would  swallow  you  up  and  we  should  never 
see  you  again.  The  consolation  was  that  she  had  pre- 
dicted it." 

"It  was  no  fraud  but  a  regular  business  transaction. 
Of  course,  Lu,  we  are  so  out  of  the  real  world  these 
things  seem  a  little  strange  to  us,  but  they  really  are 
everyday  occurrences  in  the  larger  cities.  I  must  have 
gone  away  if  I  had  found  a  position  to  teach  ;  I  would  a 
hundred  times  rather  have  this.  I  like  Mrs.  Townsend. 
She  is  a  truly  splendid  woman." 
"  Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  All  over  the  world — well,  the  American  world,  first," 
laughing  gaily.     "  And  oh,  suppose  I  should  go  abroad 


28  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

sometimes?  I  have  never  truly  understood  the  wisdom 
of  Aunt  Sampson  sending  me  away  to  school,  but  if  I 
had  not  gone,  this  couldn't  have  happened — indeed  I 
should  not  have  been  fitted  for  the  position." 

"  O  goodness  !  "  ejaculated  Lu,  her  rather  limited  vo- 
cabulary at  fault  for  a  proper  word.  "Well,  you  do 
have  the  luck  !     When  will  you  have  to  go?  " 

"Next  week.  Mrs.  Townsend  is  going  to  Chicago 
first,"  was  the  prompt  answer. 

"Well,  I  suppose  mother  will  have  to  give  in  this  time, 
but  she  has  been  taking  on  dreadfully.  Gertie,"  glanc- 
ing sidewise  at  her,  "could  you  marry  Mr.  Rowdon  ?  " 

"  No,  I  couldn't.  And  he  knows  it  now.  I  told  him 
this  morning.     He  is  very  well  satisfied." 

"  He's  half  in  love  with  Agnes.  But  he's  such  an  old 
fellow  !  I  suppose  it  doesn't  matter  when  you  really  care 
about  any  one.  But  I'd  like  to  have  lots  of  fun — like  the 
girls  you  read  about  in  stories.  And  you'll  have  a 
splendid  time." 

"  There  will  be  a  good  deal  of  work  to  do.  Letters  to 
answer,  accounts  to  keep,  people  to  see " 

"  The  people  are  what  I'd  like." 

"And  no  doubt  many  of  them  will  be  persistent  and 
disagreeable.  Mrs.  Carew  finds  a  good  many  of  them. 
O,  Lu,  the  world  isn't  all  rose  color." 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  want  it  all  one  color." 

The  household  was  electrified  by  Gertrude's  report  of 
her  day's  adventure.  Mrs.  Townsend  would  have  smiled, 
Mr.  Constantine  Murray  who  after  all  had  engineered  the 
under  current,  would  have  been  amused.  He  was  quite 
curious  and  sought  his  friend  at  her  hotel  the  next  morning. 

"I  like  Miss  Maurice  very  much,"  she  began.  "She 
has   a   certain   style   and  dignity,  and  she  isn't  pretty, 


WHAT  THE  MORNING  BROUGHT.  29 

though  she  has  a  curious  attractiveness  for  people  who  do 
not  consider  merely  the  outside  aspect.  I  have  made  her 
promise  not  to  have  any  lovers  for  a  year.  She  will  be 
young  enough  then.  She  has  some  bits  of  youthful  cyni- 
cism, and  some  sage,  shrewd  wisdom  that  would  do 
credit  to  forty." 

"  Your  plan  is  very  good  if  you  can  keep  her  to  it,  and 
you  will  be  a  wonderful  woman." 

Mrs.  Townsend  glanced  him  over  with  a  touch  of 
amusement. 

"Con  Murray,"  she  said,  vivaciously,  "I  am  not 
going  to  have  you  flirt  with  my  secretary,  nor  tie  an 
imaginary  string  to  her  finger  that  a  susceptible  girl 
might  dream  would  be  transformed  into  a  wedding  ring. 
I  obeyed  your  request  to  the  letter.  We  traveled  all 
round  Melchias  island  and  never  once  mentioned  you.  I 
think  you  might  be  a  dangerous  man  to  an  inexperienced 
girl.  So  you  are  not  to  waylay  me  with  any  innocent 
business  surprise,  and  by  the  time  she  comes  back  she 
will  know  you  are  not  the  only  man  in  the  world.  I  am 
sincerely  obliged  to  you  for  your  good  offices,  and  she  is 
very  grateful  to  Mrs.  St.  John.  So  we  have  all  done  our 
duty  and  have  earned  a  degree  of  satisfaction." 

He  laughed  heartily,  as  he  returned  — 

"  You  need  not  fear  my  poaching  on  your  manor. 
And  there  were  three  other  girl  guests  last  summer." 

For  once  in  her  life  Mrs.  Maurice  found  a  current  in 
her  own  household  too  strong  for  her  to  stay  with  a 
delicately  imperative  wave  of  her  small  hand.  They  all 
talked  together,  and  it  did  make  a  din.  Mr.  Maurice  was 
so  surprised  and  gratified  that  his  daughter  should  have 
this  opportunity,  that  he  proved  recreant  to  the  claims  of 
her  elderly  admirer. 


3o  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Mrs.  Maurice  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  sighed. 
They  certainly  were  an  ill-bred  lot  of  girls,  and  she  had 
always  set  them  a  most  refined  example,  she  was  sure. 
Yet  a  touch  of  elation  would  stir  her  heart  at  the  thought 
of  Gertrude  seeing  so  much  of  the  world.  And  she 
might  meet  a  desirable  parti,  she  loved  to  think  in  her 
schoolgirl  French  now  and  then — at  all  events  Mrs. 
Townsend  must  be  a  rich  woman,  since  she  did  not  de- 
pend on  earning  money.  She,  Mrs.  Maurice  despised 
women  lecturers  and  women's  rights  and  all  that,  but  she 
did  respect  money  and  position. 

"I  can't  approve  of  it,  Gertrude,"  she  said,  severely, 
later  in  the  evening.  "  A  young  girl's  place  is  under  her 
mother's  wing  until  she  has  a  home  of  her  own.  And 
you  have  no  need  of  this  flighty  step,  for  the  home  is 
already  provided.  A  girl  who  begins  her  life  by  outrag- 
ing the  customs  of  good  society,  finds  in  the  end  that  she 
has  lost  the  regard  of  people  of  distinction.  She  seldom 
marries.  I  have  hoped  to  see  every  one  of  my  girls  set- 
tled in  a  home  of  her  own,  and  if  the  eldest  marries,  the 
others  are  sure  to  follow.  You  may  not  only  spoil  your 
own  life,  but  that  of  your  sisters.  Still  I  know  my  coun- 
sel will  go  for  nothing,  since  your  father  has  ranged  him- 
self on  the  wrong  side." 

She  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  and  gave  a  little 
sob. 

And  Mrs.  Carew  knew  so  many  fine  women  who  were 
earning  their  living.  They  visited  at  Mrs.  Drayton's 
lovely  house,  they  held  positions  of  honor  and  made  de- 
lightful friendships.  She  was  not  going  to  be  a  mere 
factory  girl  or  a  lady's  maid,  but  to  put  her  education 
and  training  to  some  use.  If  Aunt  Sampson  had  taken 
her  as  a  companion  her  mother  would  have  made  no  de- 


WHAT  THE  MORNING   BROUGHT.  31 

mur.  And  Mrs.  Townsend  was  worth  a  dozen  Aunt 
Sampsons. 

But  Mr.  Maurice  signed  the  agreement  for  his  daugh- 
ter, and  gave  her  some  money  for  needful  attire,  which  she 
insisted  she  should  return.  Agnes  planned  with  a  genius 
worthy  of  a  higher  sphere  and  assisted  with  her  deft 
needle.  And  the  days  flew  by  rapidly.  Even  Mr.  Row- 
don  was  interested  in  the  young  traveler  in  a  most  un- 
lover-like  fashion,  so  friendly  indeed  that  Gertrude  admit- 
ted that  he  had  improved  very  much  under  new  auspices. 

Mrs.  Townsend' s  note  came,  enclosing  her  first  month's 
salary,  and  appointing  the  day  and  train  when  she  would 
take  her  up  at  Wilmington. 

So  she  started  away  with  the  light  heart  of  youth 
and  many  consolations.  It  was  not  quite  as  if  she  had 
never  gone  from  home  before.  Then  they  were  not  a 
sentimental  family;  though  their  mother  indulged  in 
varied  emotions. 

She  had  wondered  a  little  about  the  abrupt  termination 
of  the  summer  friendship.  She  had  made  her  grateful 
acknowledgments  to  everybody  at  parting,  and  there  was 
no  real  need  of  reiterating  it.  Princess  Beaumanoir 
would  come  to  realize  that  she,  Gertrude,  had  no  designs 
on  Mr.  Murray,  who  would  drop  out  of  her  life.  The 
girls  were  all  back  at  school  again,  and  for  a  moment  or 
two  she  envied  them  with  the  happy  homes  and  delight- 
ful relatives,  the  affection  on  every  side.  It  did  seem  a 
pity  to  have  the  bright  and  winsome  friendship  of  two 
years  and  a  golden  summer  end  with  a  dissatisfaction. 

People  always  laughed  at  schoolgirl  friendships  later 
on  in  life.  Perhaps  it  was  just  as  well  that  this  should 
end  when  their  way  in  the  future  lay  so  far  apart. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A    LUNCHEON    PARTY. 

44  T  THOUGHT  I  would  come,"  exclaimed  a  bright, 
-*-  merry  voice.  "If  you  don't  want  me  I  can 
lunch  with  the  old  people." 

Nora  Mallory  glanced  laughingly  at  the  four  girls 
crowded  on  the  window-seat. 

"  O,  we  do  want  you,"  declared  Violet  Osborne,  spring- 
ing up  and  seizing  both  hands.  "  Old  people  indeed  ! 
You  had  better  not  say  that  to  Aunt  Millicent." 

"  Who  is  a  grandmother  !  " 

"You  shouldn't  have  been  so  old  yourself,  Cousin 
Nora,"  said  Pearl  Amory,  mischievously.  "For  after  all 
you  are  our  compeer.  You  should  have  been  just  out  of 
school.  And  here  you  have  a  husband  and  two  babies, 
and  you  are  a  real  girl  after  all." 

"Have  I  the  secret  of  perennial  youth?  But  as 
mamma  was  the  oldest  of  the  cousins,  so  I  was  the  oldest 
of  the  second  generation  of  cousins.  Come  and  scold 
Mr.  Mallory.  Why  I  shouldn't  have  thought  of  marry- 
ing if  he  had  not  put  the  fascinating  notion  into  my  head, 
and  had  father  Mallory  to  aid  and  abet  him.  Well,  must 
I  cross  to  the  other  side  of  the  hall  ?  I  hear  some  dis- 
creet women  in  solemn  conclave." 

"  No,  you  must  not.  Come  and  talk  to  us.  We  are 
going  to  have  a  grand  time  together.  Ruth  will  be  here. 
I  am  sorry  Kitty  Saxton  decided  not  to  come — at  the 

32 


A  LUNCHEON  PARTY.  33 

very  last  moment.  O,  do  you  remember  Gertrude 
Maurice?" 

"Indeed  I  do.  She  was  the  spice  at  Robin's  Point, 
and  we  had  every  variety  of  sugar,  didn't  we,  and  every- 
thing nice !  " 

"The  luncheon,  if  you  please,  is  given  in  honor  of  Miss 
Maurice,  who  is  quite  a  traveled  young  lady.  And  just 
think  that  she  and  Bertie  absolutely  ran  races  and  played 
tag  last  summer  !  I  am  so  curious  to  see  her  again.  You 
know  she  dropped  out  suddenly.  Perhaps  she  thought 
we  didn't  care  about  any  one  so  far  grown  up  while  we 
were  still  in  our  green  and  salad  days — schoolgirls.  But 
the  only  distinction  we  are  to  make  between  ourselves 
and  the  elders  is  that  we  have  one  end  of  the  table.  We 
will  put  you  on  the  between  line." 

"Thank  you.  I  remember  having  a  girls'  luncheon 
here  when  my  school  days  were  ended.  Papa  was  de- 
lightful." 

"We  were  so  disappointed  that  he  had  to  go  away," 
exclaimed  Violet.  "And  then  we  resolved  there  should 
not  be  any  masculines.  There  were  only  two  and  one 
was  uncertain.  But  Uncle  Con  begged — didn't  he, 
Princess  ?  and  we  ruled  him  out  by  a  strong-minded  vote. 
It  was  real  fun.  He  even  offered  to  take  us  to  the  the- 
atre, which  he  declared  was  buying  a  ticket  to  the  feast." 

"  You  were  hard-hearted." 

"  It  was  not  that  we  loved  Cgesar  less — O  !  "  And  the 
girls  started  with  eager  looks  toward  the  hall,  as  the  bell 
was  pulled  imperatively. 

It  was  simply  a  messenger  with  a  note  for  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton, who  read  it  and  passed  it  over  to  Mrs.  Osborne. 

"O,  can't  they  come — when  the  feast  is  set?"  asked 
Violet,  in  mock  despair. 


34  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

The  answer  was  another  ring  and  the  guests  themselves ; 
Mrs.  Townsend,  dignified  and  attractive  at  the  first 
glance,  and  a  tall,  stylish  young  lady  they  could  hardly 
recognize  until  she  smiled,  and  then  they  crowded  about 
her. 

"It  is  delightful  to  see  you  all  again,"  Miss  Maurice 
said,  "  and  to  have  you  remember  me  so  cordially.  Was 
it  only  last  summer  we  had  such  a  grand  time?  And 
now  you  have  all  graduated  and  can  make  your  demand 
on  the  world.  I  hope  it  will  treat  you  as  well  as  it  has 
treated  me,  for  if  you  remember,  I  was  not  expecting 
much  of  it,  and  you  all  are  entitled  to  a  good  deal." 

They  were  all  going  up  the  wide  stairway,  while  Mrs. 
Townsend  stopped  in  the  reception-room  and  sent  her 
hat  and  gloves  away  by  the  maid.  Quite  a  bodyguard, 
and  the  smiles  went  to  the  newcomer's  heart. 

"  You  do  look  like  Gertie  Maurice  with  your  hat  off," 
began  Pearl.  "But  you  are  not  so  thin,  and  you  have 
so  much  dignity,  I  am  half  afraid  of  you." 

"  I've  had  to  be  dignified,"  and  she  laughed.  "  And 
how  odd  that  you  should  all  be  in  the  city,  or  that  we 
should  have  come  just  at  this  time.  I  have  had  a  splen- 
did year  !  Ray  has  changed  more  than  any  of  you.  Ray 
has  grown  prettier  and  taller.  And,  Ruth,  have  they 
taken  you  into  the  charmed  circle?  " 

"  The  loveliest  of  all  things  has  happened  to  me,"  said 
Ruth,  with  an  eager  light  in  her  eyes. 

"And  to  have  some  unexpectedly  nice  thing  happen 
to  you  is  as  good  as  a  fortune  !  I  used  to  wish  for  a  for- 
tune, you  know,  but  now  I  am  well  content.  But  I  do 
believe  I  owe  some  one  an  apology — it  must  be  Princess. 
I  went  off  in  a  rather  ungrateful  manner,  although  at 
parting  I  tried  to  tell  you  how  much  I  was  indebted  to 


A   LUNCHEON  PARTY.  35 

you  all  for  a  rare  and  delightful  summer.  And,  girls,  I 
want  to  say  that  I  learned  many  things  in  an  unconscious 
way  then  that  have  been  of  great  benefit  to  me.  I  was 
so  taken  by  surprise  at  Mrs.  Townsend's  offer;  then  there 
were  so  many  things  to  do,  and  going  out  into  a  new 
world  and  being  very  much  engrossed  with  my  duties,  I 
let  the  time  slip  by ;  and  then  I  thought  you  might  cease 
to  be  interested  in  me.  But  now,  with  this  heartfelt 
welcome,  I  seem  convicted  of  neglect.  There,  you  will 
think  I  have  learned  to  make  speeches." 

Princess  glanced  up  and  their  eyes  met.  If  there  had 
been  any  little  feeling,  it  was  all  over,  the  cordial  look 
said. 

They  put  Miss  Maurice  at  the  end  of  the  table  and  the 
girls  on  each  side.  Mrs.  Kenneth  had  the  other  end, 
and  the  hostess,  Mrs.  Drayton,  and  Mrs.  Osborne,  were 
in  the  middle,  opposite  each  other.  The  other  ladies, 
Mrs.  Beaumanoir  and  Mrs.  Amory,  had  gone  home,  but 
Princess  and  the  girls  were  to  remain  until  some  cousins 
returned  from  abroad,  who  were  expected  about  a  week 
later.  All  these  incidents  had  paved  the  way  for  a  meet- 
ing of  the  school  friends. 

The  ladies  talked  of  the  happenings  in  the  greater 
world  ;  the  girls  still  had  the  atmosphere  of  school  about 
them,  but  it  was  a  gay  and  changeful  atmosphere. 
Gertie  asked  what  had  happened  the  last  year,  and  if 
there  were  some  brilliant  girls  left  to  do  honor  to  Mrs.  St. 
John  another  summer  ? 

"lam  afraid  we  never  considered  that  point,"  rejoined 
Violet.     "  Was  it  very  selfish  of  us?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  couldn't  leave  your  geniuses  behind  if 
you  had  wanted  to." 

"I  am  under  the  impression  that  no  one  really  wanted 


36  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

to.  But  as  they  are  a  part  of  yourself,  and  not  any  school 
quality,  you  have  the  best  right  to  them." 

"After  all,"  said  Ruth  Ensign,  gently,  "I  feel  sorry 
for  Mrs.  St.  John.  I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but  she 
must  get  wonderfully  interested  in  girls,  and  love  them  as 
well.  And  then  they  go  out  of  her  life  and  a  new  set 
comes  in.  The  work  is  all  to  be  done  over  again.  I 
don't  believe  I  should  like  to  have  a  girls'  school.  I 
want  to  go  right  on  with  people." 

"  Yet  the  variety  is  entertaining.  And  Mrs.  St.  John 
is  very  proud  of  the  success  of  some  of  her  girls.  You 
go  out  of  your  own  homes  by  marriage,  if  not  by  busi- 
ness." 

"  But  your  mothers  still  have  a  right  to  you,"  said  Nora 
Mallory,  glancing  up  at  hers.  "  Like  Ruth,  I  should  not 
want  to  be  the  head  of  a  girls'  school.  I  have  not  enough 
philanthropy." 

"  That  is  where  we  mean  to  broaden  out  the  next  gen- 
eration," said  Mrs.  Townsend.  "The  greatest  good  to 
the  greatest  number." 

"O  Mrs.  Townsend,  can't  we  get  married  if  some 
nice  young  man  asks  us?"  inquired  Pearl,  with  such  a 
wistful  expression  and  beseeching  tone  that  everybody 
laughed. 

' '  I  suppose  you  will  marry  whether  or  no.  A  happy 
marriage,  a  sensible  marriage  is  the  best  thing  for  any 
woman.  But  I  am  very  glad  that  we  have  passed  the 
era  when  marriage  was  a  test  of  respectability,  and  that 
a  single  life  can  be  made  admirable  and  honorable." 

"  It's  funny  to  think  there  is  a  man  somewhere  in  the 
world  coming  to  marry  you,"  said  Violet,  in  a  low  tone 
to  Ray,  who  sat  beside  her.  "  I  wonder  who  of  us  will 
be  married  first  ?  ' ' 


A   LUNCHEON  PA  J?  TV.  37 

"Pearl,"  was  the  whispered  answer.  For  it  seemed 
to  Ray  that  no  one  could  resist  Pearl's  beauty. 

"That  is  not  my  guess,"  returned  Violet,  with  a  glance 
wandering  down  toward  Ruth.  For  it  seemed  the  most 
natural  conclusion  that  Mrs.  Kenneth's  half  adoption 
should  prefigure  relationship. 

Miss  Maurice  was  telling  some  laughable  experiences 
that  quenched  the  flickering  light  of  coming  husbands. 
Mrs.  Townsend  was  really  proud  of  her  protegee,  who 
saw  the  amusing  side  of  life  without  being  satiric.  There 
was  an  indescribable  charm  about  her  the  girls  felt,  and 
they  were  really  glad  she  had  come  back  to  them  almost 
in  a  schoolgirl  fashion. 

They  were  lingering  over  the  fruit  when  there  was  a 
confusion  of  voices  in  the  hall,  masculine  voices,  and 
Mrs.  Drayton  excused  herself. 

"  O  Aunt  Millicent !  "  exclaimed  a  chorus. 

Princess  sprang  up,  and  the  next  instant  a  tall  young 
fellow  had  her  in  his  arms.  Was  it  really  her  brother 
Sherburne,  whom  they  had  not  seen  for  two  years  ! 

"  Yes,  we  have  had  a  little  luncheon,  but  we  could  not 
wait  for  style,  and  fellows  after  a  sea  voyage  are  always 
ravenous.     Can't  we  come  out " 

That  was  Leonard  Beaumanoir's  voice.  Whether  any 
one  said  they  could  or  could  not,  they  all  marched  out ; 
Sherburne  Beaumanoir,  with  his  arm  around  Princess, 
and  the  two  Baltimore  cousins,  Ned  and  Len  Beaumanoir. 
Such  a  greeting,  and  such  a  mingling  of  voices  that  it 
was  almost  a  whirlwind  of  sound  with  the  exclamations 
of  surprise  and  the  short,  gay  laughs. 

"  We  were  not  going  to  look  for  you  until  next  week," 
began  Mrs.  Drayton. 

"  We  found  by  taking  another  line  that  we  could  come 


38  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

three  days  sooner.  And  we  supposed  everybody  would 
be  up  here  or  at  Aunt  Lyndell's.  When  a  chap  hasn't 
seen  his  own  folks  for  two  years " 

"Hear  the  ingratitude,"  exclaimed  Leonard.  "Ned 
went  out  a  year  ago,  and  I  last  winter." 

"O  fellows  don't  count  beside  mothers  and  sisters," 
began  Sherburne. 

"And  cousins  and  aunts " 

"  Let  me  take  you  around  and  introduce  you  to  every- 
body," said  Mrs.  Drayton.  "Then  we  will  have  some 
fresh  fruit  and  some  more  plates.  There  is  a  cordial  and 
inspiriting  charm  in  sitting  around  a  table." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  shall  spoil  it  if  I  take  leave.  I  really 
have  an  engagement." 

Mrs.  Townsend  glanced  up  at  the  clock.  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton begged  her  to  remain. 

"  I  am  truly  sorry,  for  I  should  like  a  talk  with  these 
young  travelers.  I  have  tried  not  to  have  any  engage- 
ments to  interfere  with  the  vacation  both  Miss  Maurice 
and  I  have  earned  by  our  steady  application  to  business, 
but  this  came  unexpectedly  after  I  had  accepted  your 
invitation,  and  is  important.  No,  Gertrude,"  with  a 
graceful  wave  of  her  hand,  "I  am  going  to  leave  you 
with  these  young  people,  and  I  hope  you  will  prove  so 
attractive  to  them  that  you  may  induce  them  to  come  in 
a  party  to  the  St.  James  the  very  first  evening  they  can 
be  spared.  I  don't  see  why  you  mothers  may  not  be 
generous  and  divide  your  pleasures  with  us  lone  women." 

The  young  men  looked  at  her  as  she  stood  in  all  the 
vigor  of  handsome  middle  life,  and  then  at  the  young 
girl  who  had  risen  and  bowing  smilingly,  sat  down  again. 

Sherburne,  with  his  arms  still  around  his  sister,  half 
impelled  her  toward  Gertrude. 


A   LUNCHEON  PARTY.  39 

"Miss  Maurice,"  he  began,  "I  feel  as  if  we  had 
known  each  other  ages.  It  began  in  the  fossiliferous 
period  of  the  coast  of  Maine.  There  was  a  learned  pro- 
fessor and  a  young  lad,  and  the  latter  wrote  such  glowing 
letters,  in  which  everything  was  considerably  mixed,  but 
thanks  to  evolution  we  come  out  right  at  last,  and  are 
transformed  into  human  beings  in  that  most  charming 
period  of  life,  youth.  May  we  shake  hands  and  be 
friends,  though  if  Bertram  were  here  no  doubt  I  should 
be  relegated  at  once  to  the  rear." 

Gertrud«  smiled  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  You  will  have  to  look  to  your  laurels,  Ned,"  said  his 
brother  Leonard,  teasingly.  "Just  think  of  Sher  dis- 
coursing learnedly  on  fossils,  and  Miss  Maurice,  I  should 
object  to  being  placed  back  in  the  ages." 

"Ages  are  periods  shorter  or  longer.  And  if  you  had 
counted  the  days,  and  been  disappointed  last  summer 
when  your  respected  father  decisively  refused  to  let  you 
take  a  homeward  trip  and  join  the  merry  crew  who  dis- 
ported themselves  on  an  enchanted  island,  it  might  seem 
the  longer  period  to  you." 

The  butler  had  been  rearranging  the  chairs.  Sher- 
burne dropped  into  the  one  next  Miss  Maurice.  Violet 
moved  and  gave  her  seat  to  Princess  and  went  to  the 
other  side  of  the  table  with  Leonard  Beaumanoir,  intro- 
ducing him  to  Ruth.  Pearl  beckoned  Cousin  Ned  to 
her  side  and  placed  him  next  Mrs.  Mallory. 

"O  Cousin  Nora,"  he  exclaimed,  "do  you  remember 
when  we  used  to  dispute  as  to  who  had  the  best  right  to 
Grandpapa  Beaumanoir  ?  And  I  can  recall  your  lovely 
wedding,  and  how  pretty  the  little  maids  of  honor  looked 
scattering  their  flowers  in  your  path.  Somehow,  I  think 
we  two  boys  have  not  had  quite  our  share  of  the  cousins. 


4o  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Now  that  I  am  going  to  spend  the  coming  year  in  the 
city  I  hope  you  won't  bar  me  out." 

"  But  we  are  not  all  going  to  remain  here,"  said  Pearl. 
"  O,  I  almost  wish  we  were." 

Edward  glanced  around  his  end  of  the  table. 

"It  is  so  long  since  I  have  seen  you  all.  Of  course  I 
know  you  live  in  Washington,  Pearl " 

"And  Ray  is  going  to  Washington.  Uncle  Archie 
has  a  position  there,  and  Aunt  Julia  is  to  live  with  them. 
Aunt  Jue  is  such  a  sweet  old  lady,  she  seems  almost  as 
old  as  grandmamma.  Uncle  Stanwood's  death  was  a 
great  blow  to  her,  although  she  bore  it  so  bravely." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  haven't  been  very  cousinly,"  said  the 
soft,  gentlemanly  voice.  "  I  have  been  so  fond  of  books 
and  study,  and  there  were  only  two  boys  of  us.  And  I 
think — don't  laugh  at  me,  Cousin  Pearl" — glancing  up 
entreatingly,  "but  I've  always  been  a  little  afraid  of 
girls." 

Pearl  did  laugh  with  a  soft  deliciousness  that  was  like 
music. 

"And  you  dropped  down  on  a  regular  girls'  party! 
We  are  standing  on  the  dividing  line — '  Where  the  brook 
and  river  meet.'  None  of  us  are  full-fledged  young 
ladies.  We  come  in  the  category  of  '  sweet  girl  gradu- 
ates,' except  the  one  talking  so  earnestly  to  Cousin 
Sherburne.     She  was  in  the  last  year's  nest." 

Edward  looked  sharply  down  to  the  end  of  the  table. 
He  was  quite  near-sighted,  but  he  did  not  always  wear 
glasses.  He  was  still  rather  thin,  and  the  little  touches 
of  precision  set  so  well  upon  him  that  they  were  no  detri- 
ment. He  was  not  as  handsome  as  Sherburne,  though 
he  had  a  rather  fine  scholarly  face,  somewhat  too  grave 
for  a  young  fellow. 


A   LUNCHEON  PARTY.  41 

"And  where  in  the  list  of  cousins  does  she  come 
in?" 

"She  isn't  in  the  list  at  all;  but  I  think  she  'would 
be  missed,'  "  laughingly  quoting  the  Mikado.  "  She  and 
the  girl  next  to  Violet,  Ruth  Ensign,  were  our  school- 
mates last  year.  And  Princess,  who  is  always  thinking  up 
lovely  things — or  else  it  was  Uncle  Con — O,  you  must 
know  Uncle  Con  Murray.  He  is  the  most  splendid 
bachelor  uncle  you  can  imagine,  and  is  so  fond  of  girls. 
Like  Wordsworth,  '  In  his  capacious  heart  he  loves  them 
all.'  And  Princess  invited  some  girls  to  summer  with  us. 
Miss  Maurice  had  graduated,  Ruth  and  another  girl 
were  in  our  class.  And  as  there  was  no  enchanted  island 
for  this  summer,  Aunt  Millicent  took  pity  on  us  and  gave 
us  a  luncheon.  Miss  Ensign  is  going  to  live  in  New 
York.  Mrs.  Kenneth  has  in  a  fashion  adopted  her. 
That  is  Mrs.  Kenneth  at  the  end  of  the  table." 

"  What  a  lovely  face  she  has." 

"And  she  is  just  as  lovely  within  as  without.  She  is 
truly  a  King's  daughter.  We  had  a  delightful  week 
with  her  in  Boston  last  summer  before  we  went  to  the 
island." 

"I  do  think  a  lot  of  girls  have  wonderfully  good 
times,"  said  Edward.  "And  you  never  knew  a  more 
disappointed  fellow  than  Sherburne  because  he  could  not 
come  home  for  vacation.  Uncle  Len  seems  so  easy-go- 
ing, as  if  you  could  coax  anything  out  of  him,  but  you 
can't." 

"  He  is  a  judge,"  said  Pearl,  with  mock  dignity. 

"And  Bertram  wrote  Sher  such  tantalizing  letters. 
Why  the  boy  would  make  a  good  newspaper  corre- 
spondent. And  I  found  Sher  quite  in  the  dumps.  He 
gave  me  the  letters  to  read,  and  that  is  how  I  came  to 


42  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

know  you  all  better  than  ever  before.  But  Bert's  bright 
particular  seemed  to  be  Miss  Maurice.  Has  some  one 
adopted  her  ?  ' ' 

"Why  yes,  in  a  way.  She  is  Mrs.  Townsend's  secre- 
tary, and  has  been  as  far  as  California  with  her.  Mrs. 
Townsend  is  a  kind  of  educational  woman,  believes  in 
kindergartens  and  colleges  and  the  improvement  of  the 
feminine  race  generally,  and  is  charming.  O,  you 
needn't  look  so  doubtful.  Some  time  we  are  all  going  to 
vote." 

"  Do  you  really  want  to?  "  An  expression  of  distaste 
passed  over  his  face. 

Pearl  laughed  gaily.  What  a  musical  sound  it  was, 
and  oh,  what  a  dazzle  of  loveliness  swept  over  every 
feature. 

"Well — how  many  more  are  going  to  Washington? 
I  think  I  am  booked  for  a  position  in  New  York,  and 
if  I  am  left  all  alone ' ' 

"  Poor  boy,"  patronizingly.  "  There  will  be  Uncle  and 
Aunt  Carew,  but  their  flock  are  not  grown  up.  And 
here  will  be  Aunt  Millicent,  and  Uncle  Drayton  is 
splendid,  and  Cousin  Nora  and  Mr.  Mallory,  and  Mrs. 
Kenneth  and  the  professor " 

"  Bertram's  second  love.  A  dangerous  rival  for  Miss 
Maurice  in  the  young  man's  affections,"  said  Cousin 
Ned  with  a  smile. 

"  He  is  so  nice,"  declared  Pearl.  "  I  am  coming  to  the 
end  of  my  adjectives,  there  are  so  many  people.  And 
Miss  Ensign  who  is  sweet — is  that  admissible?  and 
whether  there  is  one  left  to  apply  to  Miss  Maurice — well, 
piquant  will  do.  There,  haven't  I  described  every- 
body?" 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you." 


A   LUNCHEON  PARTY.  43 

They  were  certainly  having  a  gay  time  at  Miss 
Maurice's  end  of  the  table.  Sherburne  had  been  peeling 
oranges  in  a  most  elaborate  fashion  for  Miss  Maurice  and 
Princess,  and  cracking  nuts,  the  filberts  being  of  the  hard 
shell  variety.  Sherburne  declared  they  must  have  sum- 
mered and  wintered  a  good  many  times. 

"But  they  are  very  sweet,"  replied  Gertrude. 
Sherburne  detailed  his  last  summer's  disappointment 
graphically,  and  how  his  feelings  were  harrowed  up  by 
Bertram's  description  of  everybody  and  the  fun.  "  And 
I  thought  you  must  be  quite  a  little  girl,"  turning  to 
Gertie. 

A  quick  color  flashed  up  in  her  face.  "I  was,"  she 
answered  with  a  gay  smile,  "I  climbed  rocks,  I  built 
bridges  with  heaps  of  stones,  I  think  I  even  made  sand 
pies,  I  ran  races  and  played  tag.  It  was  the  last  expir- 
ing gleam  of  girlhood.  Since  then  I  have  been  staid, 
discreet,  business-y.  But  you  see  it  was  a  girl's  summer. 
There  were  no  young  men.  The  mothers  tabooed  them 
utterly." 

"  Didn't  they  surprise  you  as  we  have  to-day?  " 
"There  was  one  who  crept  into  the  Eden — do  you  re- 
member,   Princess?     Ward    Garrison,    Miss    Hildreth's 
cousin." 

"And  did  you  all  fight  over  him?  O,  what  was  one 
young  man  among  so  many  girls  ?  " 

"  No,  we  didn't  fight.  We  didn't  even  pull  straws. 
We  went  off  and  spent  a  few  days  at  the  Naumekeag 
clubhouse  where  there  were  plenty  of  men  and  few 
women,  and  danced  and  had  a  good  time.  We  went  on 
a  yachting  excursion  around  Mount  Desert.  You 
wouldn't  believe  the  coves  and  bays  and  headlands  could 
be  stretched  out  to  afford  so  much  entertainment.     It 


44  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

was  a  golden  summer  and  Princess  planned  it  all.  I  can 
never  forget  it." 

"  You  must  make  out  a  list  of  the  choice  places  and  I 
will  go  up  and  weep  over  them." 

"  Why  should  you  weep  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  not  there.  Because  so  much  sweet- 
ness and  delight  and  enjoyment  has  fallen  out  of  my  life. 
It  can  never  be  made  up  to  me." 

"  That  sounds  like  Uncle  Con,"  said  Princess.  "And 
isn't  it  funny  that  we  wouldn't  let  him  come  to-day,  be- 
cause it  was  a  girls'  party " 

"And  we  stormed  the  Eden.  Dear  Uncle  Con,  I 
want  to  see  him,  and  such  hosts  of  people  !  I'd  like  to 
be  divided  and  subdivided  for  several  hours  or  have  an 
astral  body — five  or  six  of  them,  and  the  real  body  should 
stay  here.  You  cruel  Princess  !  Were  you  afraid  Uncle 
Con  had  not  wit  and  wisdom  enough  to  go  round,  or  that 
so  many  girls  would  quench  him  utterly?  You  know 
Miss  Maurice,  Princess  has  a  mortgage  on  Uncle  Con. 
If  he  should  ever  fall  in  love  he  would  have  to  come  to 
her  in  the  most  abject  humility  and  say  meekly  — 
'  Please' m  may  I  ask  this  girl  to  marry  me  ?  '  " 

Princess  was  scarlet.  Her  eyes  met  those  of  Gertrude 
and  some  subtle  message  flashed  from  both,  and  then  both 
laughed  to  break  the  spell. 

Aunt  Millicent  had  risen  and  gave  her  arm  to  Mrs. 
Kenneth.  The  procession  stood  in  the  hall,  dispersing 
to  library  and  drawing-room,  when  another  visitor  was 
ushered  in.  Mr.  Constantine  Murray  came  face  to  face 
with  Sherburne  Beaumanoir,  who  had  Princess  on  one 
side  and  Gertrude  on  the  other. 

"  Upon  my  word  !  '  Women  were  deceivers  ever,' 
Shakespeare   slightly   amended.     What    magic   brought 


A   LUNCHEON  PARTY.  45 

these  young  men  across  the  seas,  when  you  all  insisted 
this  was  to  be  a  girls'  party,  and  that  I,  no  longer  young 
and  dangerous  to  budding  femininity,  was  not  even  al- 
lowed entrance.     And  a  crowd  of  young  men  !  " 

He  was  shaking  hands  heartily  with  the  travelers,  and 
Aunt  Milly  was  explaining,  but  he  insisted  that  it  was  a 
a  deep  laid  scheme  to  defraud  him  and  quoted — "  'Twas 
ever  thus  from  childhood's  hour."  But  in  a  moment  he 
really  seemed  to  be  the  hero  of  the  occasion. 

"And  I  have  come  with  a  magnificent  barouche  and 
pair  to  tempt  some  of  you  to  a  Central  Park  drive.  I 
thought  by  this  time  you  must  begin  to  weary  of  unal- 
loyed sweetness." 

"  O  yes,"  began  Aunt  Milly,  "  I  will  order  up  our  big 
carriage,  and  we  might  send  around  to  the  livery  for 
another,  and  end  with  an  out-of-doors  party.  There  is  a 
little  cloudiness  that  will  temper  the  heat,  and  a  grateful 
breeze  from  the  south.    We  will  have  a  really  festive  day. ' ' 

The  girls  were  enthusiastic.  Mrs.  Kenneth  said  Ruth 
should  join  them. 

Gertie  came  over  to  Mrs.  Drayton. 

"I  am  sorry  to  ask  you  to  excuse  me,"  she  began  in 
an  entreating  tone.  "I  have  some  important  letters  to 
answer,  and  there  was  to  be  a  caller  at  five.  I  am  not 
sure  Mrs.  Townsend  will  be  in,  and  she  has  already  in- 
structed me  what  to  do  in  the  case.  I  must  thank  you 
for  this  delightful  reunion  with  the  girls.  I  feel  very 
much  honored  that  you  should  all  remember  me  so  cor- 
dially. I  have  spent  many  happy  hours  recalling  the 
joys  of  last  summer,  and  one  of  the  reasons  that  drew 
me  to  Mrs.  Townsend  was  the  fact  that  she  had  met  you 
all.  We  often  talked  about  you.  I  am  sorry  to  give  up 
the  added  pleasure,  but  I  feel  that  I  ought.     I  learned 


46  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

some  useful  lessons  last  summer,  for  which  I  wish  to 
thank  all  you  mothers.  And  I  hope  nothing  will  ever 
happen  to  impair  the  friendship  with  any  of  you." 

Millicent  could  read  the  depth  of  feeling  in  her  tone. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  she  answered  ;  "  but  we  shall  count 
on  you  on  some  other  occasion.  Mrs.  Townsend  intends 
to  remain  in  the  city  for  some  time.  Just  now  we  shall 
crowd  in  all  that  is  possible,  for  no  doubt  Princess  will 
return  with  her  brother.  I  am  glad  you  have  enjoyed 
yourself. ' ' 

There  was  a  general  protest  against  Gertrude's  defec- 
tion, though  Mr.  Murray  was  silent. 

"I  wonder  if  I  can't  meet  you  somewhere?"  asked 
Sherburne.  "  For  I  must  see  Aunt  Lyndell  if  it  is  not 
for  more  than  ten  minutes.  I  assured  her  a  month  ago 
that  my  very  first  call  would  be  upon  her,  and  here  I 
have  been  pleasuring " 

They  all  felt  there  was  an  especial  duty  in  this,  al- 
though it  could  have  been  put  off  until  evening.  But  he 
insisted  he  would  not  stay  long,  and  would  surely  rejoin 
them  at  the  park  at  any  convenient  point. 

"  And  I  hope  you  will  bear  Mrs.  Townsend's  invitation 
in  mind  before  the  general  dispersion,"  exclaimed  Ger- 
trude. "  I  will  beg  her  to  set  her  time  to-morrow,  and 
if  it  does  not  suit  we  will  rearrange  it." 

They  all  acquiesced  enthusiastically. 

Miss  Maurice  uttered  her  good-bye  with  a  touch  of 
regret.  Then  they  discussed  where  Sherburne  should 
meet  them  an  hour  hence,  and  he  nodded  a  jaunty  adieu. 

Gertrude  Maurice  was  walking  slowly  along.  She 
might  have  given  an  hour  perhaps,  but  it  would  have 
been  harder  to  leave  in  the  midst  of  the  enjoyable  drive. 
No,  this  was  best.     How  queer  it  seemed  to  take  up  the 


A   LUNCHEON  PARTY.  47 

old  life  just  as  if  there  had  been  no  break.  And  Mr. 
Murray  — 

She  had  come  to  know  that  he  and  Mrs.  Townsend 
were  friends.  But  then  that  lady  knew  so  many  news- 
paper men,  and  literary  and  philanthropic  people  of  all 
sorts. 

There  was  a  hurried  step  behind  her.  Something  im- 
pelled her  to  turn,  and  she  smiled  before  she  realized  that 
she  should  have  looked  dignified,  and  then  it  was  too 
late. 

"  I  thought  I  should  catch  up  with  you  if  you  did  have 
the  start.  But  no  invidious  comparisons  are  meant.  So 
if  you  don't  object  to  a  companion " 

They  had  reached  the  corner,  where  she  halted. 

"You  go  in  that  direction  to  Doctor  Carew's,"  she 
announced,  with  a  little  nod. 

"I  am  going  to  accompany  you  to  the  St.  James  first, 
wherever  that  may  be.  I  have  almost  forgotten  New  York. 
So  I  depend  on  your  tender  mercies  to  pilot  me.  Then 
I  shall  find  my  way  back  to  Doctor  Carew's,  and  take 
some  car  afterward  that  will  bear  me  swiftly  to  Central 
Park.  Have  I  not  given  a  concise  account  of  my  pur- 
pose ?  " 

"But  if  I  said " 

"You  will  say  nothing  disagreeable,"  he  interrupted. 
"We  shall  walk  along  as  amicably  as  lambs  in  a  clover 
field,  after  they  have  feasted.  It  was  so  odd  to  meet  you 
the  first  thing,  when  I  had  heard  so  much  about  you." 

"A  big  boy's  enthusiasm  over  some  one  older  than 
himself,  who  forgets  for  the  nonce  how  old  she  really  is. 
I  liked  Bertram  very  much.  I  wish  we  had  come  soon 
enough  to  see  him  again." 

"  I  suppose  it  was  foolish  to  care  so  much  about  a 


48  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE 

boy's  letters.  But  I  was  awfully  disappointed  about  not 
coming  home.  You  see  father  was  not  so  enthusiastic 
about  my  going  to  Germany,  so  I  suppose  he  thought  it 
would  be  a  good  discipline  for  me  to  stay  until  my  time 
was  up." 

"And  was  it?  " 

There  was  a  mischievous  suggestion  in  her  tone. 
"  I  suppose  it  was.     Good  things  are  not  always  pleas- 
ant.    Yet  I  don't  see  why  they  should   not  have  been 
made  pleasant,  for  then  it  would  be  easier  to  be  good. 
The  friction  helps  to  wear  out  life." 

"  Is  that  German  collegiate  reasoning  ?  " 
"It  is  my  reasoning,  fresh  from  Germany." 
Both  laughed  a  little. 

"  However,  it  has  helped  me  to  make  up  my  mind.  I 
am  afraid  I  shall  disappoint  father  a  little.  And  he  is 
such  a  comfortable  father,  too.  Do  you  know,  Miss  Mau- 
rice, that  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating  words  in  the  lan- 
guage?" 

«  What— comfortable  ?  " 
"  Yes.     Think  of  all  it  expresses." 
"At  peace  with  all  men.     Surrounded  by  numerous 
satisfactions.     Happy  in  your  inmost  soul." 
"Excellent.     You  could  write  a  dictionary." 
"And  my  genius  is  expended  mostly  on  accounts,  and 
keeping  the  run  of  engagements  present  and  to  come  for 
Mrs.  Townsend.   And  here  we  are  at  the  St.  James.    May 
I  wish  you  a  pleasant  call,  and  a  pleasant  drive  afterward, 

and  I  may  as  well  go  on  and  say  a  pleasant  life " 

"Do  not  wish  so  far.  Save  something  for  the  next 
time  we  meet.     Adieu,"  and  he  bowed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN   THE    RETROSPECT. 

*T*HE  St.  James  was  more  of  a  private  hotel  than 
■*■  apartment  house.  One  could  be  quite  as  secluded 
and  home-like  as  one  chose.  Mrs.  Townsend  had  gath- 
ered up  some  of  her  choice  belongings  that  had  been 
stored,  and  the  sitting-room  looked  quite  as  if  some  one 
lived  there  and  was  not  merely  waiting  to  move  on.  Miss 
Maurice  thought  of  young  Beaumanoir's  word.  It  was 
comfortable.  What  an  odd  idea  for  a  boyish  fellow  with 
very  limited  experience  ! 

She  was  going  over  the  pile  of  letters  when  the  caller 
was  announced.  A  young  woman — three  or  four  years 
older  than  herself,  who  was  trying  to  find  a  place  in  the 
world  where  she  could  help  along  its  essential  advance- 
ment, and  reach  the  front  ranks  herself.  She  had  given 
readings,  she  had  lectured  a  little,  but  she  was  eager  for 
higher  work.  Mrs.  Townsend,  with  all  her  experience, 
might  see  an  opening  or  suggest  some  course  — 

Gertrude  listened  attentively,  and  made  a  few  notes, 
took  the  name  and  address  and  explained  that  Mrs. 
Townsend  had  but  recently  returned  to  the  city,  and 
found  so  much  to  do,  had  to  meet  so  many  people,  and 
had  very  little  leisure.  She  would  lay  the  case  before 
her,  but  there  was  not  much  doing  in  the  summer,  and 
if  there  was  any  opening  for  autumn,  Mrs.  Townsend 
would  do  what  she  could  for  her. 

Gertrude  felt  sorry  for  the  tired-looking,  unprepossess- 

49 


50  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

ing  girl.  To  be  a  success  one  did  need  attractiveness,  or 
a  high  order  of  genius  that  made  itself  felt  at  once.  She 
was  really  thankful  she  had  no  wild  ambitions  for  herself, 
and  was  satisfied  with  the  work  that  had  come  to  her. 
And  what  a  splendid  year  it  had  been — not  all  rose  color 
or  heart' s-ease,  but  she  had  grown  used  to  the  thorny  side 
and  the  little  pricks. 

She  had  adapted  herself  to  her  round  of  duties  with 
no  great  friction,  for  she  had  a  good  deal  of  common 
sense.  How  the  two  older  Maurice  girls  had  acquired 
so  much,  unless  some  far  back  ancestor  had  dowered 
them  with  it,  was  a  mystery.  There  were  so  many  at- 
tractive qualities  in  Mrs.  Townsend  that  Gertrude  cheer- 
fully overlooked  the  occasional  fractiousness,  for  there 
were  various  incidents  to  try  one's  temper.  Gertrude 
wondered  sometimes  why  a  woman  of  independent  means 
and  fine  social  qualities  could  not  content  herself  to  take 
the  best  out  of  life,  and  let  the  old  world  go  its  own  gait. 
Clearly  Gertrude  Maurice  was  not  a  philanthropist. 

There  was  the  delight  of  wonderful  cities,  of  charming 
and  cultivated  people,  of  insufferably  ill-bred  people, 
who  thought  money  was  everything,  and  were  compla- 
cently ignorant ;  lectures,  concerts,  readings,  an  occa- 
sional theatre,  luncheons,  suppers,  and  sometimes  an  in- 
formal dinner.  True,  a  few  people  snubbed  her  with  a 
superior  air,  as  if  they  must  make  a  distinction  between 
the  lady  and  the  secretary.  But  on  the  whole  it  had 
been  a  grand  time,  and  the  woman  and  the  girl  had 
fallen  into  friendly,  as  well  as  excellent  business  relations. 

There  had  been  one  trying  week,  when  Mrs.  Town- 
send  was  absolutely  laid  aside  with  influenza,  and  had  to 
forego  several  choice  pleasures.  The  nurse  was  a  rather 
rigid,  consequential  person,  and  even  Gertrude  was  glad 


IN  THE  RETROSPECT.  51 

to  have  her  go  and  fill  the  place  herself,  through  the  days 
of  convalescence.  She  gave  the  room  a  different  aspect, 
the  chairs  no  longer  looked  as  if  placed  for  funeral  guests. 
The  palm  stood  on  the  window-ledge,  there  were  bowls 
of  flowers  about,  the  rugs  slipped  off  in  piles  on  the  floor 
and  no  one  snatched  them  up.  There  was  a  graceful 
touch  of  disorder,  a  little  reading,  a  little  talk,  a  choice 
friend  admitted. 

"Gertrude,"  Mrs.  Townsend  said  one  day,  "you  are 
a  most  comfortable  person  to  have  about.  You  are  not 
continually  doing  useless  things  and  arguing  about  what 
is  best.  I  can  throw  my  wrap  down  and  you  don't  rush 
across  the  room  to  pick  it  up.  I  can  wrinkle  up  my  pillow 
and  you  don't  come  with  a  teasing  pat  that  drives  me 
distracted.  Yet  all  the  little  things  get  done,  one  hardly 
knows  how,  just  at  the  right  time.  And  when  I  am  cross 
and  flurried  you  don't  get  out  the  thermometer " 

"  But  I  am  not  a  regular  nurse,"  returned  Gertrude, 
smilingly. 

"  You  are  good  enough  nurse  for  me,  only  of  course 
there  were  other  things  for  you  to  do,  and  I  could  not 
have  taken  so  much  of  your  time  and  strength.  But  you 
have  the  art.  And  you  are  comfortable.  That  is  better 
than  being  wise  and  trained." 

"Thank  you,"  Gertrude  smiled  again. 

"I  wonder  whether  you  will  be  married?  The  bar- 
gain was  that  you  were  to  have  no  lovers  this  year.  It 
was  rather  selfish." 

"No;  it  was  just  right,"  returned  Gertrude,  with  a 
flush.  "It  was  a  business  bargain,  and  I  wanted  the 
business." 

"  Fortunately  girls  do  not  marry  as  young  as  they  did. 
I  remember  an  old  great-uncle  of  mine  who  had  married 


52  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

three  wives,  always  quoting — '  Old  age  is  honorable,  but 
old  maids  are  abominable. '  Well,  as  I  said,  he  had  saved 
three  women  from  the  direful  fate.  I  think  now  a  girl 
has  generally  a  very  good  time  from  twenty  on  to  half 
a  dozen  or  so  years.  She  gets  some  sensible  ideas  if 
there  is  any  sense  to  her.  So,  my  advice  is  to  wait  until 
you  have  a  good  opportunity,  and  I  want  to  say" — Mrs. 
Townsend  gave  a  rather  amused  laugh,  more  at  her  in- 
ward thought  than  her  words, — "  that  I  withdraw  my  re- 
strictions. A  good  marriage  is  the  best  destiny  for  a 
woman,  and  a  home  and  children  are,  or  ought  to  be,  her 
safeguards,  her  hostages  to  the  world,  much  better  than 
a  little  fame  or  a  reputation  soon  forgotten.  I  should 
like  to  have  had  some  of  my  own.  So  you  see  I  have  no 
objections  to  a  sensible  marriage,  if  I  do  sometimes  berate 
silly,  sentimental  girls  and  women  who  sigh  for  careers, 
but  are  all  unfitted  for  them.  On  the  other  hand — we 
have  gone  along  very  amicably,  and  you  may  consider 
your  position  permanent  for  as  long  as  you  like.  Next 
winter  I  shall  have  my  headquarters  in  New  York.  And 
during  the  summer  you  may  have  a  vacation  or  two,  as 
seems  best.  Is  that  satisfactory  ?  I  like  to  have  matters 
settled." 

"  I  should  be  unreasonable  if  it  were  not,"  Gertrude 
replied,  frankly.  "And  I  am — yes,  gratified  with  your 
good  opinion  of  me,"  a  warm  flush  mounting  to  her  brow. 
"I  shall  endeavor  to  keep  it." 

Mrs.  Townsend  nodded,  as  if  to  signify  that  all  had 
been  said  on  both  sides.  She  was  not  a  woman  to  keep 
going  over  the  old  ground  like  Mrs.  Maurice.  And 
this  had  been  such  a  rest  to  the  girl.  It  was  the  outcome 
of  broad  living. 

She  had  a  quiet  evening  before  her.     She  did  not  care 


IN  THE  RETROSPECT.  53 

to  read  or  sew,  so  she  ensconced  herself  in  an  easy-chair, 
and  gave  way  to  a  peculiar  feeling  of  satisfaction.  She 
was  not  afraid  of  the  world  nor  the  future,  at  least  for 
some  time  to  come.  The  position  had  many  agreeable 
sides,  and  when  one  proved  unpleasant  she  had  only  to 
turn  the  mental  kaleidoscope  around,  and  there  was  a 
new  phase.  She  had  never  liked  to  dwell  on  irritating 
or  annoying  subjects.  And  this  characteristic  had  led 
her  to  put  aside  the  little  jar  between  her  and  her  school 
friend,  Princess  Beaumanoir.  There  was  nothing  she 
could  explain  by  letter.  If  they  thought  it  wiser  to  drop 
her,  that  was  all  right,  too. 

Perhaps,  with  a  young  girl's  romance,  she  had  hoped 
fate  would  bring  about  some  reminder  from  Mr.  Murray. 
It  had  not.  And  as  she  saw  more  of  the  world,  she 
learned  that  a  man's  interest  did  not  always  presage  a 
warmer  feeling,  and  that  a  sudden  touch  of  sympathy 
might  be  as  easily  forgotten.  She  knew  he  was  in  New 
York ;  now  and  then  his  name  was  mentioned  in  some 
literary  connection.  Mrs.  Townsend  spoke  of  him  just  as 
she  did  of  others  who  had  come  under  her  notice ;  Ger- 
trude could  have  forgotten  him  in  the  way  we  set  aside 
our  friends  when  their  connection  with  us  is  ended. 

He  had  come  to  call  on  Mrs.  Townsend  among  her 
earliest  visitors.  Whether  he  was  surprised  to  see  her  in 
this  capacity  she  could  not  quite  tell.  It  was  a  very  en- 
joyable call,  though  he  had  not  said  much  to  her.  Mrs. 
Drayton  and  Mrs.  Mallory  had  followed,  and  then  had 
come  the  luncheon,  at  which  she  was  the  guest  of  honor. 
O,  how  she  had  enjoyed  it !  And  the  gay,  chatty  girls, 
the  agreeable  elders,  the  young  men  dropping  in,  the 
amusing  walk  with  Sherburne  Beaumanoir  !  How  odd 
that  he  should  have  become  interested   in  her  through 


54  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Bertram's  letters.     How  the  old  summer  came  back — 
was  it  only  a  year  ago  ? 

Perhaps  the  most  gratifying  happiness  of  all  was  the 
ready  graciousness  of  Princess  that  seemed  to  take  back 
look  and  word  that  had  rankled  at  parting  and  left  a 
little  trail.  But  she  was  not  likely  to  marry  Mr.  Murray. 
Perhaps  Princess  rested  serenely  in  that  assurance.  Yes, 
that  was  it.  What  would  she  think — O,  of  course  Sher- 
burne's sudden  fancy  had  no  more  foundation  than 
Bertram's  boyish  preference  of  last  summer.  He  was  so 
young. 

She  startled  herself  by  laughing  aloud,  a  soft  note  of 
merriment.  She  was  only  twenty,  he  would  be  twenty- 
one  in  the  autumn.  What  made  her  seem  so  much  older 
than  this  group  of  cousins  ?  Not  experience  altogether, 
though  poor  people  did  get  a  great  deal  more  worldly 
wisdom  in  their  youth,  with  all  the  pinches  and  make- 
shifts. 

She  was  still  sitting  there  when  Mrs.  Townsend  came 
in,  who  inquired  if  the  close  of  the  luncheon  had  been 
satisfactory. 

"  What  a  pity  you  had  to  come  home  for  that  poor 
girl,  for  whom  I  can  do  nothing.  How  few  of  them 
realize  that  it  takes  a  great  deal  of  training  and 
genius  to  come  up  to  the  front  rank — and  time  as  well. 
A  little  genius  is  a  very  perplexing  and  dangerous  thing. 
I  am  glad  every  day  you  have  not  struck  that  trouble- 
some reef.  And  yet  you  could  fill  the  role  as  well  as 
dozens  of  other  young  women." 

"To  be  with  you  is  a  liberal  education,"  quoted  Ger- 
trude. 

"  Thank  you  ;  that  really  is  a  compliment.  And  now 
that  you  are  so  near,  I  suppose  you  are  thinking  and 


IN  THE  RETROSPECT.  55 

longing  for  home.  I  accepted  an  invitation  for  a  month, 
to-night,  partly  travel,  partly  visiting  with  some  very  dear 
friends.  The  journey  begins  next  week.  So  you  can 
have  a  month  at  home  if  you  like,  and  then  I  think  it  will 
be  Chautauqua.  You  will  enjoy  that,  I  know,  and  I 
shall  need  you." 

"Your  plans  are  always  pleasures,"  responded  Ger- 
trude, with  brightening  eyes. 

"  Now  we  must  go  to  bed  for  our  beauty  sleep.  You 
must  not  grow  old,  and  I  cannot  afford  to." 

She  bethought  herself  the  next  morning  of  the  invita- 
tion to  the  young  people,  and  learned  that  the  Beau- 
manoirs  were  to  start  on  Saturday.  They  asked  if  Ger- 
trude might  not  join  in  two  or  three  of  their  pleasures. 
Indeed  every  hour  was  crowded  full,  and  they  could 
hardly  get  in  all  the  delights  that  awaited  them. 

Professor  Kenneth  and  Mr.  Edward  Beaumanoir  found 
so  many  things  to  talk  about  that  they  really  talked  them- 
selves into  friendship,  and  planned  some  pursuits  for  the 
ensuing  winter,  when  Ned  should  be  in  the  city.  He 
was  very  much  attracted  to  Mrs.  Kenneth  and  Ruth,  in- 
deed, he  declared  to  Princess  he  had  never  known  how 
really  delightful  girls  were. 

"  I  think  we  have  not  been  very  social,"  he  admitted. 
"  You  know  mother  was  an  invalid  for  a  good  many 
years,  and  she  thought  my  college  vacations  ought  to  be 
spent  with  her.  Len  was  always  going  off  with  boys. 
Then  there  was  my  year  of  teaching  and  last  year  abroad. 
I  can't  tell  you  how  I  enjoyed  Sherburne.  He  is  such  a 
thorough  boy  with  gleams  of  manhood  shining  through. 
And  I  think  it  will  be  a  grand  thing  for  him  to  study 
under  Doctor  Carew's  guidance.  I  feel  as  if  we  two 
boys  had  missed  a  good  deal  in  the  way  of  relationship." 


56  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"You  can  have  it  all  now.  You  can  begin  over 
again,"  said  Princess,  with  interest,  her  soft  eyes  shining 
with  earnest  friendliness. 

The  elder  Beaumanoir  men  had  drifted  apart  as  the 
nearest  relatives  will  at  times.  Mrs.  Edward  had  de- 
veloped into  a  fussy,  nervous  mother,  and  then  into  a 
fussy,  nervous  invalid.  How  Mrs.  Judge — she  always 
called  Mrs.  Leonard  that  after  her  husband  had  his  ap- 
pointment, quite  proud,  if  a  trifle  resentful,  of  the  family 
dignity, — how  she  could  go  away  in  the  summer  with  a 
houseful  of  children,  how  she  could  spend  weeks  in  the 
winter  at  Washington  and  leave  the  children  at  home, 
passed  Mrs.  Edward's  comprehension.  Her  husband 
confined  himself  more  and  more  to  business,  Leonard  the 
younger  son  found  home  and  his  mother's  complaints 
tiresome,  and  was  full  of  engagements.  And  so  it  hap- 
pened that  scholarly  Ned,  who  was  gentle  and  sympa- 
thetic, soothed  her  weary  days  until  she  dropped  gently 
out  of  life. 

Her  husband  was  really  shocked.  When  his  brothers 
and  sisters  came  to  the  funeral  it  awoke  memories  of 
the  old  times  at  Beaumanoir  and  Sherburne  House. 
Really,  the  portly  judge  looked  almost  as  young  as  he. 
And  there  was  his  father  still  hale  and  hearty ;  the  girls 
with  all  their  children.  He  seemed  to  have  been  shut 
out  of  the  vital  family  interest.  A  narrow  woman  had 
narrowed  his  life  and  he  had  not  possessed  the  force  of 
character  to  make  a  stand  against  it. 

He  plunged  anew  into  business.  The  house  was 
dreary.  One  son  always  at  his  books,  the  other  full  of 
boyish  engagements,  and  nothing  to  draw  them  together 
in  sympathetic  bonds.  Then  he  had  married  again  with 
but   little   notice,   a  rather  pretty,   affectionate,  middle- 


IN  THE  RETROSPECT.  57 

aged  woman,  who  after  a  hard  struggle  with  life  had  been 
left  alone,  and  was  really  grateful  for  the  rest  and  the 
home  she  could  make  attractive  and  enjoy. 

Ned  had  taken  it  rather  painfully  at  first,  and  held 
aloof  in  his  diffident  fashion.  Leonard  dropped  into  an 
easy-going  familiarity.  They  found  the  house  bright  and 
cheerful,  their  father  thawing  out  of  his  unsocial  ways, 
their  own  pleasure  consulted,  and  they  paid  her  a  respect- 
ful regard. 

Edward  had  been  really  fascinated  with  the  social  life 
everywhere,  the  strength,  dignity  and  intelligence  of  the 
heads  of  the  families.  Mrs.  Carew  was  the  "  Cousin 
Dell"  of  Sherburne  House,  the  admirable  mother  who 
found  time  and  interest  for  much  outside  of  her  own  life. 
Doctor  Carew  stood  high  in  his  profession  and  was  the 
author  of  several  notable  works,  with  a  broader  scope 
than  mere  technical  knowledge.  Even  in  midsummer 
when  people  were  thronging  seasides  and  mountains, 
there  were  well  attended  evenings  at  the  Draytons,  it 
seemed,  and  Aunt  Millicent  was  charming.  The  Mallorys 
welcomed  the  cousins  warmly.  And  they  could  hardly  ac- 
cept the  fact  that  Mrs.  Kenneth  was  an  invalid,  she  was 
so  vivacious  and  entertaining. 

"And  what  relation  is  Miss  Ensign?"  Cousin  Ned 
asked.  "  Every  time  I  think  of  you  girls  I  get  confused 
and  tangled  up.     I  shall  have  to  draw  a  family  tree." 

The  "girls"  laughed  as  they  suddenly  stared  at  each 
other. 

"A  relation  by  grace,"  replied  Ruth,  with  a  most  at- 
tractive smile.  "At  school  the  girls  used  to  envy  the 
Sherburne  cousins,  they  had  such  good  times  among  them- 
selves, and  they  were  not  exclusive  either.  They  opened 
the  gates  to  the  charmed  pastures  and  invited  us  in " 


58  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"That  was  Princess,"  interposed  Violet. 

Princess  flushed  rosy  red. 

"  And  I  have  half  adopted  Miss  Ensign  to  console  me 
for  my  daughter  who  married  and  deserved  a  good  long 
holiday,"  said  Mrs.  Kenneth. 

"And  I  think  Mrs.  Townsend  has  about  half  adopted 
Gertie  Maurice.  Now  you  have  all  the  moving  history," 
laughed  Pearl. 

Princess  was  attracted  by  the  quick,  pleasurable  lights 
that  came  and  went  in  Ruth's  face  as  the  professor  made 
a  little  aside  in  the  talk  to  her.  She  would  not  need  to 
go  away,  even  when  love  came. 

Aunt  Lyndell  waived  her  right  to  the  young  people 
since  Mrs.  Townsend  had  selected  the  last  evening  of 
their  stay  for  her  entertainment.  There  were  several 
others  invited,  and  Gertrude  being  in  part  hostess,  dis- 
pensed her  attentions  so  impartially  that  Sherburne  Beau- 
manior  felt  a  little  vexed  at  not  being  able  to  monopolize 
her.  But  there  would  be  all  next  winter,  so  he  consoled 
himself.  He  inherited  some  of  his  father's  easy  philos- 
ophy. 

It  was  really  lonesome  when  the  bright  young  company 
had  gone.  Ned  had  been  strongly  inclined  to  remain 
and  have  a  quiet  fortnight  with  the  professor  and  learn 
something  about  his  new  duties.  But  he  really  did  owe 
that  respect  to  his  father  who  had  been  generous  with 
both  boys  while  they  were  abroad. 

"  I  never  supposed  there  was  the  making  of  such  a  fine 
man  in  Ned  Beaumanoir,"  said  Doctor  Carew  to  his  wife. 
"I  wish  he  were  going  to  be  my  student,  only  I  can't 
imagine  a  fellow  with  such  delicate  nerves  and  tastes 
practicing  medicine." 

"  O,   you  must  not  like  any  of  the  boys  better  than 


IN   THE  RETROSPECT.  59 

Sherburne,"   exclaimed  Lyndell,   flushing  in  her  excite- 
ment.     "  Think  of  the  old  times  and  that  long  ago  wed- 

ding." 

"And  the  gift  of  Sherburne  House,  and  the  baby's 
birth,  and  our  own  wedding.  All  those  times  are 
crowded  with  tenderest  remembrances.  And  Sherburne 
expressed  one  hope,  or  half  prediction  that  when  he  was 
elderly  and  had  made  fame  and  money  and  Sherburne 
House  came  to  him,  he  should  go  there  and  live,  and  be 
a  sort  of  country  benefactor,  take  up  the  work  Doctor 
Underwood  would  lay  down." 

"That  is  a  delightful  plan,"  exclaimed  Dell,  her  eyes 
alight  with  emotion  and  interest. 

"  He  won't  achieve  it,  I  am  afraid.  I  am  really  trou- 
bled about  this  new  plan.  He  went  wild  you  know  over 
languages  and  literature  and  would  go  abroad.  What- 
ever gave  him  this  fancy — he  entertained  it  before  he 
came  home  and  has  been  studying  up  a  little.  I  do  not 
want  his  father  to  think  I  persuaded  him.  Leonard's 
heart  was  set  upon  his  studying  law." 

"I  think  medicine  grander,  higher." 

"For  some  men — yes.  Yet  I  think  a  lawyer  oftener 
comes  up  to  the  fine  places  in  public  life.  And  I  am 
sorry  to  have  Len  disappointed.  Then  too,  there  would 
be  such  an  excellent  connection  for  a  young  fellow  to 
step  into.     However,  Sherburne  may  change  his  mind." 

"  But  I  do  like  his  ideal." 

"I  wonder — "  Bertram  Carew  studied  his  wife's  face 
with  a  half  nervous  scrutiny. 

"O,  you  needn't  tell  me,"  she  responded,  laughingly. 
"When  you  say  'wonder '  in  that  tone,  I  know  it  means 
'will  you  never  be  sorry  that  one  of  our  boys  is  not 
going  back  to  the  old  home  to  be  Sherburne  of  Sher- 


60  THE   HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

burne  House  ?  '  Would  you  take  it  back  on  the  possi- 
bility?" 

"A  thousand  times  no.  I  aided  and  abetted  you.  I 
think  I  asked  it  of  you  as  a  preliminary  to  marriage." 
There  was  a  gleam  of  amusement  in  his  eyes.  "My 
dear  Lyndell,  Leonard's  love  for  the  place  and  care  of  it 
is  enough  to  reward  us  both.  Who  could  have  made 
Aunt  Amelia  so  happy,  and  given  Cousin  Carrick  just 
that  kind  of  home  for  her  declining  years  !  Our  destiny 
lay  in  a  different  direction.  Our  boys  will  have  a  wide 
range  to  choose  from.  And  Sherburne's  dream  is  like 
the  happy  ending  of  a  delightful  romance.  But  it  is  a 
long  way  from  twenty  to  fifty,  and  ideals  change." 

"  But  you  will  do  your  best  for  him  ?  "  anxiously. 

"As  if  he  was  my  own  son, — if  he  comes  back  in  the 
autumn  of  the  same  mind." 

"  You  do  not  quite  trust  him." 

"  His  temperament  is  a  little  volatile.  What  seems 
like  strength  may  be  an  eager  desire  to  please  one's  self. 
He  is  a  handsome,  attractive  fellow,  and  doesn't  appear 
to  have  acquired  any  vices,  one  of  the  young  men  who 
will  be  a  general  favorite  with  society  and  that  the  world 
will  judge  leniently.  Do  you  want  me  to  express  any 
more  admiration  for  the  heir  of  Sherburne  ?  ' ' 

"You  have  been  very  generous,"  returned  Lyndell, 
smilingly.  "  O,  how  strange  it  seems  with  all  these 
little  children  growing  up  to  men  and  women  !  When 
the  first  person  gave  birth  to  the  aphorism  that  'Child- 
hood was  the  happiest  time  of  life,'  he  should  have  added 
'to  the  parents.'  You  do  not  have  to  think  what  you 
shall  do  with  them,  nor  feel  afraid  of  some  unreason- 
able love  affair.  O,  I  am  glad  that  I  have  a  few  more 
years  of  grace." 


IN  THE  RETROSPECT.  61 

Doctor  Carew  bent  over  and  kissed  his  wife. 

"It  is  quite  ridiculous  to  think  of  sons-in-law,  and 
daughters-in-law.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
select  as  wisely  as  dear  father  did.  '  His  little  girl.'  I 
think  that  is  in  some  old  letters." 

The  soft  tears  flooded  Lyndell's  eyes.  Yes,  that  had 
been  a  happy  time  in  spite  of  its  sorrows  and  her  first 
dreadful  summer  at  Sherburne  House.  She  had  been 
the  child  of  the  father's  love  before  she  had  been  the 
son's  wife. 

There  began  preparations  for  the  home-going.  Edward 
Beaumanoir  would  spend  another  week  in  the  city,  and 
he  had  half  a  mind  to  go  to  Labrador  with  Professor 
Kenneth,  but  Sherburne  persuaded  him  to  come  to  them 
for  a  visit,  and  he  did  owe  his  father  some  respect.  Mrs. 
Osborne  begged  the  Carew  twins,  as  they  were  all  eager- 
ness to  see  the  younger  Beaumanoir  cousins. 

It  was  quite  lonely  when  they  had  gone.  But  there 
were  to  be  summer  plans  for  the  others. 

"  I  think  we  shall  have  to  own  an  island  or  a  hotel," 
declared  Mr.  Drayton,  humorously.  "There  are  so 
many  of  us,  and  we  agree  so  well  together  that  we  might 
start  a  regular  colony." 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN   THE    BOSOM    OF   THE    FAMILY. 

f^  ERTRUDE  MAURICE  started  homeward  with  a 
^-*  variety  of  emotions.  She  longed  to  see  the  house- 
hold, yet  she  shrank  from  the  first  meeting.  She  had 
changed  greatly  she  knew.  The  littleness  of  everything 
would  stifle  her. 

Yet  why  should  her  broader,  truer  outlook  lead  to  any 
diminution  of  affection  ?  Had  they  truly  loved  each 
other  ?  She  had  cared  most  for  Agnes  and  her  father, 
but  her  father  was  so  different  from  these  other  fathers, 
who  took  such  exquisite  interest  in  their  children.  It 
made  her  heart  ache.  It  also  made  her  frightened  and 
ashamed. 

Agnes  had  married  Mr.  Rowdon  early  in  the  winter. 
Gertrude  would  have  liked  her  to  be  more  frank  and 
more  enthusiastic  about  her  own  feelings.  Her  thoughts 
seemed  to  be  of  the  good  home  and  the  kindly  husband. 
It  would  relieve  papa  of  some  care,  for  they  were  to  take 
Virginia,  who  was  a  delicate  child.  Old  Nancy  who  did 
their  washing  and  chores,  and  was  a  tolerable  cook, 
would  come  for  low  wages,  "and  you  know  mamma 
dotes  on  a  servant,"  wrote  Agnes.  "  Mr.  Rowdon  has 
grown  very  fond  of  me  in  certain  ways  and  we  shall  get 
along  very  well  together.  If  you  can  spare  Lu  and 
Elsie  a  little  now  and  then  for  clothes,  we  shall  all  be 
content.  Only  send  the  money  to  me  to  spend,  for  you 
know  mamma  has  no  great  judgment  in  such  matters, 

62 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF  THE  FAMILY.  63 

and  I  shall  expect  to  look  after  some  things  just  as  if  I 
were  still  at  home." 

There  had  been  a  family  dinner  at  the  Rowdons.  The 
parlor  had  been  newly  furnished  to  some  extent.  Agnes 
seemed  thoroughly  satisfied  with  her  pleasant  home  and 
her  elderly  husband.  Luella  wrote  complaining  letters 
occasionally,  and  begged  for  money,  or  to  have  some 
suitable  garment  sent  her.  She  thought  it  very  hard 
that  Agnes  should  receive  the  money  when  she  had 
enough  of  her  own. 

Mrs.  Maurice  never  wrote  any  letters.  She,  too,  sent 
her  complaints  through  Agnes.  Her  father  sent  love  and 
good  wishes  and  hoped  she  was  enjoying  herself.  So  all 
the  family  affairs  came  through  the  commonplace  but 
rather  philosophical  pen,  and  Gertrude's  past  experience 
enabled  her  to  understand  that  the  present  was  much 
like  the  past. 

0  why  should  people  be  so  different  ?  There  was  a 
long  line  of  ancestry  on  her  mother's  side,  who  always 
bewailed  the  fact  that  she  had  put  a  slight  upon  it  by 
marrying  Mr.  Maurice.  It  would  have  been  bad  enough 
if  he  had  proved  Aunt  Sampson's  heir.  And  Gertrude 
had  brought  fresh  misfortune  on  the  family  by  not  being 
a  boy.  None  of  the  others  were  ever  blamed  as  severely 
as  she,  though  she  could  not  understand  why.  So  she 
kept  thinking  on  her  homeward  journey  of  the  green  and 
sunny  pastures  she  had  left  behind.  She  did  not  so  much 
mind  now  that  Mr.  Murray's  greeting  had  been  gay  and 
friendly.  She  had  told  herself  the  whole  year  that  the 
odd  little  episode  had  really  meant  nothing.  She  under- 
stood how  many  flattering  speeches  men  could  make  to 
women,  that  were  the  outcome  of  momentary  pleasure. 
And  she  had  learned  too,  that  without  beauty  she  had  a 


64  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

certain  attractiveness.  Now  that  she  knew  her  position 
was  assured,  she  should  be  in  no  haste  to  marry.  She 
would  like  to  be  loved  fondly,  warmly,  she  confessed 
secretly  to.  herself.  Perhaps  such  husbands  as  Mr. 
Amory  and  Air.  Drayton  and  Doctor  Carew  were  above 
the  average.  Would  she  have  fulfilled  her  own  purposes 
of  life  better  if  she  had  not  had  that  lovely  summer? 
And  yet  if  God  sent  all  things, — and  she  had  not  out- 
grown her  childhood's  faith  in  a  supreme  ruler, — had  He 
not  sent  that  delightful  experience  to  her  ? 

The  town  was  unchanged.  It  looked  less  business-like, 
or  was  it  the  contrast  with  busier  places?  Down  yonder 
she  could  see  the  piles  of  lumber  grown  grey  and  weather- 
beaten.  A  man  pulled  his  faded  felt  hat  to  her  and 
said  — 

"  Hillo  !  Back  agen,  Mis'  Maurice  ?  Heerd  you  were 
out  in  Californy  !  Great  country  that !  Why — 'pears  to 
me  you've  grown  taller  !  " 

She  nodded  and  passed  on.  There  were  other  half- 
asleep  towns  in  the  world.  There  were  other  places  of 
small  interest,  bounded  by  the  semi-annual  house  clean- 
ing, the  church  affairs,  the  summer  picnic  and  the 
winter  "supper,"  the  Christmas  doings,  and  the  gossip 
on  Sundays  about  "Who  was  sick,  who  had  made  a 
new  rug,  or  a  new  gown,  or  a  new  comfortable,  or  occa- 
sionally who  had  a  new  baby,  or  who  was  engaged." 
Most  of  the  girls  married  young  if  not  well,  the  others  at 
a  little  past  twenty  accepted  the  fate  of  spinsterhood,  to 
the  mortification  of  the  mothers.  The  simplicity  of 
country  life  that  people  sometimes  raved  over  meant 
stagnation.  A  woman's  club  would  be  horrifying  to  these 
people,  a  woman  doctor  and  a  woman  lecturer  was  quite 
outside  the  pale  of  respectability. 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF   THE  FAMILY.  65 

It  almost  seemed  as  if  her  mother  could  not  have 
moved  since  last  summer.  She  sat  on  the  porch  in  the 
low  rocker  ;  she  glanced  up  and  received  the  kiss  of  the 
tall  girl  bending  over  her,  with  no  especial  show  of  emo- 
tion, and  no  word  of  welcome. 

"Are  you  well?  Where  are  the  others?"  in  a  rapid 
tone  to  keep  down  the  great  lump  in  her  throat. 

"I  am  never  well" — pointedly.  "But  I  get  along. 
O,  they  are  all  over  to  the  Rowdon  house.  It  has  been 
very  pleasant  to  have  the  interest,  and  Agnes  has  proved 
herself  a  thoughtful  daughter.  In  a  place  like  this  girls 
cannot  have  much  choice,  and  I  said  to  Agnes — '  A  bird 
in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush.'  Mr.  Rowdon 
had  his  home  and  his  money.  I  married  your  father  not 
supposing  his  adopted  mother,  for  she  was  that,  was  go- 
ing to  cut  him  off  with  a  paltry  five  hundred  dollars.  If 
you  had  been  a  boy — and  Gertrude,  you  should  have 
married  Mr.  Rowdon.  Not  but  what  Agnes  makes  him 
a  better  wife,  only  you  were  older,  and  it  is  a  bad  sign 
for  the  oldest  not  to  go  first." 

"Yes,  Agnes  suits  him  a  great  deal  better,"  said  Ger- 
trude, in  the  pause. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  see  where  you  got  your  ideas  from, 
Gertrude.  I  have  tried  to  bring  my  girls  up  in  a 
womanly  fashion.  In  Bible  times  they  were  meant  for 
wives  and  mothers,  and  to  be  the  centre  of  a  home.  It 
stands  to  reason  that  an  old  maid  can't  be  the  centre  of 
anything,  and  never  can  have  a  home." 

"O  yes,  there  are  single  women  who  have  lovely 
homes,"  interposed  Gertrude. 

"That  is  a  matter  of  opinion.  I  believe  all  your  rich 
friends  of  last  summer  were  married,  and  I  suppose  they 
expect  their  daughters  to  marry.     At  all  events  I  expect 


66  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

my  girls  to  marry,  and  Agnes  has  set  them  a  good  ex- 
ample if  you  don't  interfere  and  spoil  their  lives  as  Aunt 
Sampson  did  yours." 

"  I  am  not  likely  to  interfere,"  returned  Gertrude,  with 
a  touch  of  bitterness.  "I  may  keep  my  position  for 
some  years  to  come." 

That  answered  a  question  her  mother  meant  to  get 
around  to  presently.  She  fancied  herself  quite  adroit  in 
some  things.  But  that  a  girl  could  go  out  to  California 
and  back  again  and  see  a  great  deal  of  society  and  not 
find  a  lover,  passed  her  narrow  comprehension.  The  girl 
must  be  very  unattractive.  She  glanced  sidewise  at 
Gertrude.  The  soft  blue  and  white  fine  checked  silk  was 
stylish,  her  gloves  were  an  exquisite  fit — Gertrude  had  a 
small  hand  like  her  own.  Her  dark  blue  straw  hat  was 
becoming,  turned  up  at  one  side  with  a  bunch  of  field 
flowers.  She  had  a  black  wrap  and  a  dark -blue  parasol. 
She  did  look  very  ladylike.  Then  why  did  she  not 
have  a  lover  ?  Was  there  such  a  thing  as  being  born  for 
an  old  maid."     The  mother  sighed. 

A  wagon  and  a  big  bony  horse  came  rattling  up  the 
street  with  her  trunk.  Mrs.  Maurice  rang  a  little  bell  on 
the  table  beside  her. 

"Nancy,"  when  the  rather  untidy  woman  answered 
tardily,  "will  you  show  Miss  Maurice  up  to  her  room. 
And  let  the  man  take  her  trunk." 

"Land,  Miss  Gertie,  how  tall  you  be!  Why  you 
must  have  growed  !  ' ' 

"Nancy,"  with  a  certain  sharpness,  "will  you  remem- 
ber that  she  is  Miss  Maurice,  the  oldest  girl  in  the 
family,  older  than  her  married  sister." 

"  Land  now  !  "  and  Nancy  stared.  Farther  south  she 
would  have  been  classed  among  the  poor  whites.     Mrs. 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF  THE  FAMILY.  67 

Maurice  would  much  rather  have  had  a  black  serving 
woman,  but  they  came  higher. 

Gertrude  had  risen.      "Mamma,   perhaps  I  had  as 

well  run  over  and  see  the  girls 

"  I  should  imagine  when  you  had  been  away  almost  a 
year,  Gertrude,  that  your  mother  would  be  your  first 
thought.  But  I  suppose  business  women  pay  little  atten- 
tion to  such  things." 

"  Of  course  I  will  stay."  Gertrude  put  some  cheerful- 
ness in  her  voice.  She  had  learned  many  lessons  the  last 
year,  and  one  was  that  the  world  had  not  been  made 
solely  for  her. 

She  followed  Nancy  and  the  trunk  upstairs.  How 
nice  and  homey  it  looked— just  as  it  had  in  the  reign  of 
Agnes.  She  could  not  have  guessed  that  the  young  wife 
had  been  over  in  the  morning  and  "straightened  up" 
everything.  She  hung  up  her  sacque  and  hat  in  the 
small  closet,  unlocked  her  trunk  and  shook  out  some 
gowns.  Her  best  silk  and  her  evening  gown  had  been 
consigned  to  Mrs.  Kenneth's  care.  True,  her  evening 
gown  had  been  a  gift  from  Mrs.  Townsend,  but  she  did 
not  want  to  arouse  a  suspicion  of  extravagance.  A  few 
other  articles  went  into  the  empty  bureau  drawer.  She 
bathed  her  face  and  hands,  laid  aside  her  waist  for  a  fresh 
cambric,  and  went  down  again. 

"It's  very  poor  and  plain  after  hotel  life,"  began  Mrs. 
Maurice,  complainingly.  "  But  with  five  girls  your  father 
has  had  a  hard  pull,  Gertrude." 

"  And  now  there  are  only  three  for  him  to  think  about, 
since  I  can  care  for  myself,"  was  the  cheerful  comment. 

"And  Agnes  is  well  married,"  with  dignified  empha- 
sis. "  I  could  wish  Mr.  Rowdon  had  been  younger,  but 
in  a  town   like  this,  and  no  advantages  for  travel,  you 


68  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

must  do  the  best  you  can.  Your  school  and  travel  has 
not  done  much  for  you,  it  would  seem." 

"  Yes,  it  has  given  me  a  good  friend  and  pleasant  em- 
ployment, and  an  opportunity  to  do  a  little  for  the  girls." 

She  would  not  be  quite  put  down. 

Her  mother  sniffed  in  disapprobation. 

They  would  never  agree  about  themselves.  Gertrude 
began  to  ask  after  the  neighbors.  One  or  two  had  died, 
several  of  the  girls  had  married.  "And  the  Conover 
boys  had  both  gone  to  Philadelphia  to  business.  Joe  is 
engaged  to  a  girl  there.  That  makes  it  so  hard  for  the 
girls  here.  And  Rachel  Blake  is  teaching  in  the  high 
school,  which  I  think  would  have  been  much  better  for 
you." 

"  But  there  was  no  vacancy  last  summer.  And  Rachel 
had  some  experience  in  the  public  school." 

There  was  a  silence  of  some  moments. 

"Gertrude,  I  must  express  one  wish,  though  I  dare 
say  it  won't  have  much  weight  with  you,  yet  it  seems  as 
if  you  ought  to  obey  me  in  my  own  home.  I  don't  want 
you  to  infect  Lu  with  your  wild  ideas.  She  has  some 
unwomanly  notions  in  her  head  now." 

Gertrude  could  think  of  no  reply  to  make. 

"A  young  man  has  begun  to  wait  on  her.  Every 
mother  wishes  to  see  her  daughters  in  homes  of  their 
own.  She  is  in  the  high  school,  but  she  isn't — Agnes 
thinks  she  has  no  gift  for  teaching,  and  it  is  a  dog's  life. 
I  have  never  \*mted  my  girls  to  lower  themselves  by  any 
employment.  There  should  be  something  delicate  and 
high-bred  about  a  young  girl,  a  sort  of  cloistered  sweet- 
ness, a — I  think  the  PVench  bring  up  their  daughters 
with  a  fine  sense  of  propriety." 

Gertrude  thought  of  Agnes  drudging  in  the  kitchen, 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF   THE  FAMILY.  69 

with  a  woman  only  now  and  then  of  a  day.     Why  was 
her  mother  always  looking  at  far-off  ideals  ! 

"Who  is  waiting  on  Luella?"  she  asked,  briefly. 

"  Perhaps  it  isn't  quite  keeping  company,"  the  mother 
admitted.  "It  is  Ross  Adams.  He  drops  in  now  and 
then  and  walks  home  from  church  with  her." 

"  But  he  is  so  young  !  "  exclaimed  Gertrude,  in  amaze. 

"They  are  both  young.  Your  father  and  I  were 
young.     There  is  a  beginning  to  everything." 

Gertrude  did  not  controvert  this. 

"So  I  do  not  want  you  to  encourage  her  in  any  wild 
ideas  about  going  away  from  home.  There  is  no  better 
place  than  home  for  a  young  girl.  And  I  don't  see  that 
you  have  done  so  very  much  by  your  independence," 
harping  on  the  grievance. 

There  was  a  whirl  up  the  path  and  Luella' s  boisterous 
greeting,  Elsie's  delighted  hug  and  kiss. 

"  We  weren't  sure  you  would  come  to-day,  and  if  you 
did,  Agnes  said  we  were  all  to  come  back  after  supper. 
She's  making  some  delicious  corn  fritters — I  do  wonder 
what  we  are  going  to  have  !  "  and  the  whirlwind  sped 
out  to  the  kitchen. 

"O  Gertie,  how  beautiful  you  have  grown,"  whispered 
Elsie,  nestling  against  her  shoulder.  "I  want  to  be 
very  handsome,  like  the  girls  in  pictures,  and  I  want 
pink  cheeks,  not  staring  red  ones." 

She  patted  her  silk  skirt  with  a  delicate  touch.  And 
then  Mr.  Maurice  came  up  the  path  an«i  shook  both  of 
Gertrude's  hands,  and  kissed  her  warmly. 

"We  didn't  know  as  we  should  ever  get  you  back 
again,"  he  began.  "  I  wonder  some  of  the  fellows  over 
there,"  nodding  his  head  westward,  "didn't  snap  you 
up." 


7o  THE   HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Gertrude  colored.  She  remembered  that  in  this  small 
town  much  was  made  of  marriage,  there  was  indeed  no 
other  career  open  to  women  except  a  little  teaching,  a 
little  "sewing  round,"  still  lower  in  the  social  scale,  a 
paperbox  factory,  lower  still,  and  a  canning  factory  with 
its  work  part  of  the  year. 

Mrs.  Maurice  sniffed  with  an  air  that  suggested  no  one 
was  likely  to  want  Gertrude. 

Still  her  father  was  more  interested  in  her  doings  and 
what  she  had  seen,  and  the  fact  that  she  was  quite  able 
to  take  care  of  herself.  For  years  he  had  heard  the 
groaning  over  five  girls,  as  if  it  had  been  a  conspiracy 
between  him  and  them.  And  he  was  proud  of  her 
traveling  about.  People  with  wider  outlooks  called  her 
a  lucky  girl. 

Gertrude  was  really  impatient  to  see  Agnes  in  her  own 
home.  She  and  Lu  started  presently.  It  was  a  pleasant 
walk  through  the  quiet  streets,  with  the  stars  shining 
through  spaces  in  the  tree  branches  that  met  overhead. 
She  hardly  noted  Lu's  chatter. 

Agnes  and  Mr.  Rowdon  were  sitting- on  the  new  porch, 
that  was  already  vine-wreathed.  She  uttered  an  exclam- 
ation of  delight  as  she  sprang  up  and  greeted  Gertrude 
warmly.  Mr.  Rowdon  was  very  cordial,  but  as  he  looked 
her  over  and  in  a  vague  fashion  that  he  did  not  under- 
stand himself,  noted  the  dignity  and  the  air  of  self-knowl- 
edge that  pervaded  her,  indications  of  a  certain  strength 
and  force,  he  wondered  how  he  had  ever  thought  of 
marrying  her. 

"  We  were  not  going  to  look  for  you  until  to-morrow," 
Agnes  began.  "And  it  will  be  such  a  pleasure  to  have 
you  a  whole  month  !  To  think  of  the  wonderful  things 
you  have  seen  !     And  your  letters  were  next  best  to  see- 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF  THE  FAMILY.  71 

ing  it  one's  self,  only  I  think  I  should  feel  frightened  to 
go  roaming  round  the  world." 

' '  But  when  you  are  not  alone,  and  everything  goes  so 
smoothly " 

"But  it  must  cost  a  mint  of  money,"  said  Mr.  Row- 
don,  filling  the  little  pause  she  made,  and  her  thought 
had  been  the  money  also.  "There's  no  knowing  what 
you  may  want  for  old  age." 

Old  age  looked  far  off  to  the  youthful  side  of  twenty. 

She  pressed  the  hand  of  Agnes  that  she  was  still  hold- 
ing in  her  own.  Her  sister's  welcome  had  gone  to  her 
heart. 

Mr.  Rowdon  took  up  his  pipe  again.  Lu  asked  where 
Virgie  was. 

"  Her  head  ached  and  she  went  to  bed.  Your  walk 
was  too  long,  Lu.  Virgie  cannot  stand  so  much.  Don't 
you  want  to  see  the  house,  Gertie?  "  Agnes  asked,  with 
some  pride. 

"  O  yes,"  was  the  interested  reply. 

"The  porch  is  so  nice,  isn't  it?  I  sit  out  there  half 
the  time.  And  you  never  would  know  this  room.  It 
used  to  be  the  kitchen." 

It  was  kitchen  and  parlor  and  everything  but  sleeping- 
room  in  Miss  Maria's  time.  Now  the  wall  had  been 
painted  a  light  pinkish  grey,  the  old  sofa  freshly  covered, 
the  rush  bottomed  chairs  had  a  new  coat  of  greenish  yel- 
low, the  big  fireplace  was  full  of  feathery  asparagus  and 
looked  like  a  fairy  bower.  There  were  two  small  tables 
with  bowls  of  flowers  on  them,  some  hanging  shelves  with 
books,  a  wall  pocket  with  papers  and  a  dining-table  with 
a  red  and  white  cloth. 

"But  the  kitchen  is  my  pride,"  exclaimed  house- 
wifely  Agnes.      "It   is   so   new  and  nice,  and  closets 


72  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

everywhere,  and  only  four  steps  down  to  the  spring- 
house,  the  milk-room,  where  everything  is  so  beautifully 
cool.  And  a  shed  for  wood — look  here  !  "  opening  a 
door.  "  We  use  it  nearly  always,  for  I  can  keep  it  so 
tidy.  O  Gertie,  it  is  such  a  delight  to  have  a  house  of 
one's  own ;  and  some  one  who  is  thinking  about  your 
comfort  all  the  time." 

Lu  had  not  followed  them  hither.  Gertrude  turned 
quickly  and  gave  her  sister  a  deep  questioning  glance. 

"You  are  happy?"  she  asked,  with  a  curious  huski- 
ness  of  tone. 

Agnes  flushed,  laughed  and  looked  oddly  pretty. 

"Why — yes,"  she  replied.  "Gertrude,  you  don't 
mind  that  he — that " 

"That  he  gave  me  up?     O,  no." 

"But  you  gave  him  up,  he  said.  Though  he  thought 
he  had  made  a  mistake.  You  see  he  came  a  good  deal 
the  summer  you  were  in  Maine,  but  we  used  to  talk 
about  you.  I  was  afraid  you  did  not  appreciate  him.  I 
can  see  now  it  never  would  have  done.  And  I  think  he 
had  a  hard  time  with  Miss  Maria,  which  made  him 
queerer.     He  is  old  fashioned  to  be  sure " 

"lam  sorry  he  is  so  much  older  than  you." 

«  Well — he  grows  younger,  he  really  does,"  and  there 
was  a  pleasant  ring  in  the  wife's  voice.  "Then  you 
know  I  had  grown  so  used  to  papa." 

They  turned  about. 

"I  keep  Miss  Maria's  room  for  the  guest  chamber. 
He  had  some  cousins  come  from  Farmington  and  they 
had  such  a  nice  visit.  They  had  quarreled  with  Miss 
Maria,  though  they  attended  the  funeral.  I  liked  them 
ever  so  much.  And  we  haven't  changed  any  of  the  par- 
lor furniture,  only  to  put  up  curtains  and  a  few  pictures, 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF  THE  FAMILY.  73 

and  here  is  a  beautiful  lamp  husband  gave  me  for  my 
birthday,  and  father  gave  me  this  chair  when  I  was  mar- 
ried. Gertie,  your  gift  was  lovely.  And  you  have  been  so 
generous.     You  must  not  pinch  yourself." 

She  had  pinched  herself  more  than  once. 

Agnes  had  a  hand-lamp  in  her  hand.  The  parlor 
would  have  looked  gloomy  but  for  the  drapery  at  the 
window.  And  it  had  the  chill  of  unused  rooms,  even  in 
the  summer. 

"  You  had  better  save  up  a  little  I  think  if  you  can 
spare  any,"  said  the  thoughtful  younger  sister.  "  You 
see  you  have  been  away  from  home  so  much,  and  you 
don't  quite  understand.  Mamma  has  not  the  first  idea 
of  the  value  of  money.  And  papa  was  behindhand. 
Mamma  wanted  a  grand  wedding,  but  I  said  it  really 
wasn't  suitable  for  Mr.  Rowdon.  We  just  had  a  little 
party,  and  quite  an  elaborate  supper  when  we  came  home 
here.  And  now  papa  is  pretty  well  out  of  debt.  I  made 
some  of  your  gowns  and  your  coat  over  for  Lu,  and  they 
did  real  well  all  winter.  I  gave  papa  twenty-five  dollars 
of  your  money  and  he  was  so  delighted.  Poor  papa," 
and  she  sighed. 

"  Why  I  would  have  sent  it  to  him " 

"I  know,  dear,  I  asked  you  to  send  it  to  me.  You 
see  mamma  or  Lu  would  have  spent  it  injudiciously. 
And  now  papa's  expenses  are  smaller,  with  only  three  of 
them,  and  I  want  Lu  to  keep  at  school  and  graduate. 
Then  she  could  teach." 

"Or  marry,"  said  Gertrude,  with  a  laugh. 
"I  hope  she  will  be  sensible  about  that.     She  ought 
to  steady  down.     But  we  will  have  some  good  long  talks. 
You  must  come  over  here  and  stay.     You  can't  think 
how  papa  enjoys  coming  to  Sunday  night  supper." 


74  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"My  room  upstairs  is  all  refurnished,"  Agnes  added, 
"  but  I  will  save  that  to  show  you  next  time.  O,  there- 
are  so  many  things  to  say." 

Mr.  Rowdon  was  actually  teasing  his  young  sister-in- 
law,  who  was  sitting  on  the  porch  step. 

"  And  you  fell  in  with  all  those  Maine  people  again," 
began  Agnes.  Gertrude  was  glad  to  talk  about  them. 
But  Lu  bounced  up  presently  and  declared  they  must  go 
home. 

It  was  like  being  in  a  different  world,  Gertrude  found 
in  a  few  days.  Sometimes  she  smiled  to  herself  over  the 
complacent  narrowness.  And  yet  most  of  these  people 
were  happy  comparing  notes  about  everything  in  their 
small  round,  exchanging  recipes  and  sleeve  and  skirt 
patterns,  and  having  their  hats  and  bonnets  trimmed  with 
"just  such  a  bow  as  Mrs.  Golden  had  on  hers."  Miss 
Frear,  the  milliner,  did  not  have  to  rack  her  brains  for 
original  ideas.  The  style  was  what  every  one  adopted, 
and  even  last  year's  gown  was  not  so  utterly  out  of  place. 

She  settled  to  the  assurance  that  Agnes  was  truly 
happy.  And  she  learned  one  fact  to  which  she  had  given 
little  thought  before,  that  Agnes  took  a  very  fervent  de- 
light in  making  others  happy.  She  put  Mr.  Rowdon  at 
his  best,  and  really  there  were  some  good  points  that  Miss 
Maria  had  nipped  off  in  her  arbitrary  fashion,  because 
they  neither  saved  nor  made  money.  Hoarding  up  had 
been  the  poor  woman's  religion. 

The  years  between  them  were  not  so  dreadfully  in 
evidence.  Agnes  looked  well,  she  had  taken  up  the 
cares  of  life  too  soon  to  have  any  real  girlhood.  She 
had  been  her  father's  adviser  the  last  three  years,  and  she 
soon  slipped  into  the  same  place  with  Mr.  Rowdon. 
The  alterations  in   the  house,  the  garden  with  its  thrifty 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF   THE  FAMILY.         75 

vegetables,  its  clean  paths,  the  pretty  flower-beds,  where 
she  often  weeded  or  transplanted  with  him,  the  neat  table 
with  its  pretty  porcelain  and  snowy  cloth  instead  of  the 
checked  and  chipped  dishes  soon  became  his  pride. 

Was  it  not  beauty  and  orderliness  in  the  common  ways 
of  life?  Was  it  not  really  the  finer  endeavor  to  make 
those  around  one  happy  ?  Agnes  had  no  ambition  for 
the  high  places.  There  was  no  restless  yearning,  no 
thought  of  being  wasted  in  the  small  round.  She  read 
the  newspaper  to  her  husband,  and  Gertrude  found  she 
had  some  very  correct  and  sensible  opinions.  They 
went  out  driving,  they  called  upon  the  neighbors,  though 
this  was  rather  a  trial  to  him ;  he  enjoyed  their  coming 
in  much  more.  And  Agnes  dressed  better.  She  dis- 
carded the  depressing  greys  for  pretty  ginghams,  because 
Mr.  Rowdon  liked  them.  And  little  Virginia  was  a 
source  of  interest  to  them  both. 

Every  day  she  went  over  home  and  gave  Nancy  some 
suggestions  and  listened  to  her  mother's  complainings 
with  a  tender  patience,  as  if  she  recognized  that  any  at- 
tempt to  alter  the  current  of  the  weak,  opinionated  mind 
would  be  futile.  Yet  Mrs.  Maurice  had  come  to  have  a 
great  respect  for  her  married  daughter,  and  treated  her 
with  a  deference  that  astonished  Gertrude. 

Luella's  restlessness  was  a  source  of  some  disquiet. 
Agnes  said  much  the  same  thing  about  her  to  Gertrude 
as  Mrs.  Maurice  had,  only  in  a  different  manner.  But 
Lu  seized  the  first  opportunity  to  express  her  desires  quite 
vigorously. 

"  I'm  just  as  tired  of  this  place  as  you  ever  were,  Ger- 
trude," she  said,  decisively.  "And  I  wish  you'd  find 
me  something  to  do  in  the  city." 

"  At  what?  "  in  rather  amused  inquiry. 


76  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  ( >,  I  don't  rare.  I  could  tend  in  a  store.  I  suppose 
I  couldn't  find  a  Mrs.  Tovvnsend  to  take  me  up.  Gert, 
you  are  lucky  !  " 

''You  couldn't  fill  the  place;  you  could  not  at  pres- 
ent take  any  position  where  responsibility  and  experience 
were  demanded.     You  need  training " 

"  You  get  the  experience  by  doing  things,"  interrupted 
the  younger.  "  And  I  just  hate  the  little  things  over  and 
over.  I  want  something  wider  and  different,  where  you 
can  have  some  pleasure." 

"If  you  begin  with  the  pleasures,  you  will  be  sadly 
disappointed." 

"  I  am  sure  you  have  had  lots  of  them." 

"  I  have  been  fortunate,  I  think.  But  I  was  older  than 
you,  and  had  my  school  training.  You  couldn't  do  any- 
thing in  such  a  place,  Lu.  And  you  would  get  tired  of 
writing  letters  and  seeing  people  who  did  not  interest 
you,  who  were  unreasonable  and  full  of  vanity  and  con- 
ceit, and  who  thought  they  could  be  put  in  the  front 
ranks  and  make  a  future  at  once." 

"I'd  send  them  flying " 

"But  you  couldn't.  You  must  be  polite,  and  as  gra- 
cious as  possible.  You  cannot  understand,  Luella.  You 
have  been  so  used  to  doing  just  what  you  like,  or  grum- 
bling about  the  things  you  don't  like.  And  girls  in  stores 
and  offices  make  long  days  and  earn  a  poor  living,  many 
of  them.  They  have  a  small  room  in  a  poor  boarding- 
house,  and  no  society  to  speak  of.  Everything  costs  so 
much  in  a  city.  Then  if  you  are  teaching,  it  is  some 
years  before  you  come  up  to  a  good  salary." 

"But  girls  do  have  a  good  time  somewhere.  There 
are  places  to  go,  and — and  theatres  and  parties " 

' '  When  you  are  through  school  and  have  graduated, 


IN  THE  BOSOM  OF  THE  FAMILY.  77 

and  have  toned  down  a  little,  if  I  am  in  the  city,  I  will 
promise  you  an  outing,  so  you  will  see  what  the  city  is 
like,  and  whether  a  life  of  work  looks  so  inviting.  But 
you  must  try  and  be  more  ladylike  and  gentle  in  your 
ways,  and  refined." 

"You  are  a  fussy  old  thing!"  flung  out  Luella. 
"You'll  just  be  an  old  maid,  as  mamma  says." 

"  There  are  plenty  of  them  in  the  great  cities.  There 
are  not  so  many  chances  to  marry." 

"I  should  think  there  would  be  more.  And  I  mean 
to  marry,"  with  emphasis. 

"Then  you  ought  to  fit  yourself  for  home-making. 
You  couldn't  have  a  better  pattern  than  Agnes." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  going  to  marry  an  old  fellow  like  that, 
and  never  go  to  parties  or  dances,  and  just  putter  around 
about  housework  !  You'll  see  !  "  and  Luella  tossed  her 
head  airly.  "  But  it  does  seem  as  if  you  might  do  some- 
thing for  me." 

Gertrude  studied  the  unreasonable,  ignorant  child,  and 
then  she  laughed  at  the  foolishness  of  trying  to  argue 
with  her. 

"You  needn't  laugh,  either."  Lu  turned  very  red 
and  her  eyes  sparkled. 

"I  will  do  something,  if  you  will  fit  yourself  for  it. 
This  is  a  promise,  Luella.  If  you  will  graduate  fairly 
well,  I  will  be  on  the  watch  for  an  opportunity.  At 
least,  you  may  come  and  try— if  I  keep  my  position." 

a  Well— I  can't  graduate  next  year.  I  didn't  get  in 
the  class,"  she  said,  disconsolately. 

"  Two  years.     You  will  be  young  then." 

"I  wish  you'd  send  me  some  money,"  she  began, 
presently.  "  Why  should  Agnes  have  it  all?  And  I  do 
want  a  silk  gown  so." 


78  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"I'll  give  you  a  silk  gown,  if  that  will  make  you 
hap})y." 

"O,  that  will  be  great!  Two  of  the  girls  are  going 
to  have  birthday  parties  in  the  fall.  And  Gertrude,  if  I 
could  have  a  real  party — would  it  cost  very  much?" 

"We  might  all  join  and  help  you  out,"  and  Gertrude 
smiled.  Had  she  ever  been  as  silly  as  this?  She  had 
recognized  the  limitations  of  a  small  income,  and  Agnes 
had  been  sensible  all  her  life.  What  could  she  do  to 
improve  this  inconsequent,  thoughtless  girl,  who  seemed 
to  have  no  idea  but  personal  enjoyment  of  the  flightiest 
kind,  and  not  as  sensible  as  little  Virginia.  And  of  all 
things  in  this  world  common  sense  was  needed  most. 

"Luella,"  she  began  again,  gravely,  "if  you  mean  to 
be  or  do  anything  worth  while,  you  will  find  education 
is  a  necessity.     And  pretty,  refined  manners ' ' 

"O  gracious!  don't  lecture  any  more!"  exclaimed 
the  younger. 

For  Lu  was  still  a  hoyden,  and  ran  races  and  climbed 
trees  and  could  take  a  fence  equal  to  a  boy.  What  a 
pity  she  had  not  been  a  boy  ! 

"Events  do  go  contrariwise  in  this  world,"  she  said  to 
Agnes,  with  a  sigh,  after  she  had  repeated  the  gist  of  this 
conversation. 

"And  some  go  smoothly  enough,  or  would,  if  we  did 
not  interfere,"  said  the  younger,  with  a  smile.  "I'm 
not  sure  but  a  boy  like  Lu  would  be  the  finish  of  us  all. 
I  sometimes  wonder  why  all  these  children  were  given  to 
mamma,  who  doesn't  understand  a  thing  about  managing 
children,  when  there  are  so  many  people  in  the  world 
longing  for  one  or  two.  We  can  only  hope  Lu  will  tame 
down  in  a  year  or  two." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN   A   STRAIT   BETWIXT   TWO. 

'TpHE  greatest  surprise  of  Gertrude's  month  at  home 
■*■  was  a  note  from  Sherburne  Beaumanoir,  a  pleas- 
ant, chatty,  off-hand  epistle,  detailing  some  of  their  sum- 
mer pleasures,  and  wishing  she  could  be  there  to  share 
them,  and  announcing  that  he  should  run  up  from  Bal- 
timore and  make  a  call  upon  her. 

Gertrude  was  simply  amazed.  There  was  nothing  to 
take  exception  at ;  it  was  gentlemanly,  friendly,  as  if 
they  had  been  acquainted  all  their  lives,  and  such  a  call 
was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  In  a  certain 
way  it  was  gratifying,  but  quite  impossible.  It  would  fill 
her  mother's  head  with  foolish  plans  and  hopes  that  would 
make  no  end  of  gossip  in  the  town.  Friendliness  between 
young  people  Mrs.  Maurice  could  not  understand.  With 
her,  every  attention  pointed  the  way  to  matrimony. 

There  was  another  vague  aspect  to  Gertrude.  She 
was  beginning  to  realize  the  susceptible  side  to  young 
men.  And  though  this  spurt  of  admiration  might  mean 
only  a  temporary  interest,  it  was  not  wisdom  to  encourage 
it.  Still  with  the  other  side  of  her  nature  she  could  see 
the  half  amusement,  half  vexation  such  a  fancy  would 
cause,  even  if  it  was  evanescent.  And  now  that  they  had 
taken  her  up  so  cordially,  she  would  do  nothing  to  annoy 
them. 

She  had  numerous  engagements.  The  neighbors  about 
made  old-fashioned  tea-parties  for  her.     To  have  been  in 

79 


So  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

California,  to  say  nothing  of  the  nearer-by  cities,  was 
quite  equal  to  going  to  Europe  in  their  estimation.  Mrs. 
Maurice  was  somewhat  mollified  with  these  attentions, 
though  she  took  pains  to  explain  for  the  hundredth  time 
that  Gertrude's  going  away  was  against  her  will,  and  that 
she  never  did  or  could  approve  of  business  women  ;  that 
home  must  always  be  the  true  centre  of  a  woman's  life. 
She  wrote  a  dainty  little  note,  pleading  engagements 
and  short  absences  from  home,  and  the  general  dull 
aspect  the  town  would  have  for  a  stranger  who  had  seen 
so  much,  with  a  suggestion  of  inconvenience  she  knew 
his  good  breeding  would  lead  him  to  respect.  And  yet 
she  smiled  a  little  to  herself,  in  the  thought  that  she 
might  attract  the  nephew  as  well  as  the  uncle.  Mr. 
Murray's  fancy  had  not  been  of  the  durable  kind,  evi- 
dently. 

When  she  fell  into  a  fit  of  wonderment  as  to  how 
Agnes  could  be  happy  with  a  man  so  much  older  than 
himself,  she  thought  of  Mr.  Murray.  In  a  certain  fashion 
he  seemed  to  have  shaped  her  judgment  of  young  men. 
They  appeared  so  very  youthful  to  her.  And  there  had 
been  Ward  Garrison,  who  had  recently  married  the  girl 
selected  for  him  and  was  very  happy  it  seemed.  Perhaps 
if  she  had  met  him  quite  alone  with  no  stronger  influence 
at  hand,  she  might  have  drifted  into  the  regard  many 
girls  think  strong  enough  to  marry  upon,  and  are  reason- 
ably satisfied.  She  knew  Mr.  Murray  had  made  such  a 
step  impossible  to  her,  and  that  during  the  past  year 
other  men  had  suffered  by  comparison  with  him.  Why 
should  she  make  him  the  arbiter  of  her  destiny?  This 
mysterious  influence  that  she  could  not  shake  off,  fretted 
her.  And  much  as  she  really  loved  Princess  Beaumanoir 
and   admired   her  mother,   it   was   Mr.   Murray's  disap- 


IN  A   STRAIT  BETWIXT  TWO  81 

proval  that  stood  out  the  most  strongly  against  any  ex- 
pressed admiration  on  the  young  man's  part. 

She  spent  days  with  Agnes,  helping  with  the  family 
sewing,  the  burthen  the  young  wife  had  taken  cheerfully 
to  her  new  home. 

"I  sometimes  wonder  if  time  ever  hangs  heavy  on 
mamma's  hands,"  she  said  one  day  to  Agnes.  "There 
is  a  great  deal  said  about  the  folly  and  frivolity  of  society 
women,  and  yet  they  keep  very  busy,  if  it  is  only  pleas- 
ure. Some  of  them,  many  of  them  are  in  charitable  or 
philanthropic  work,  and  even  society  visiting  makes  de- 
mands on  one.  You  are  expected  to  add  your  mite  to 
the  general  entertainment.  Think  of  the  time  mamma 
spends  just  sitting  on  the  porch  looking  at  the  same 
things  she  has  looked  at  for  thirty  or  forty  years.  She 
can  darn  lace  exquisitely,  and  tablecloths  and  stockings. 
But  it  would  be  an  excellent  idea  to  now  and  then  have 
the  breath  of  strong  new  things.  And  those  fifty  or  hun- 
dred-year-old novels  she  reads,  with  their  exaggerated 
ideas  and  formal  manners — yet  one  finds  a  great  deal  of 
roughness  and  coarseness  in  them  as  well.  O,  I  do  like 
the  modern  world.  There  must  be  a  good  many 
changes." 

"  I  suppose  there  have  been  since  mamma's  time.  Yet 
she  is  not  so  very  old  either.  But  I  think  she  must  have 
been  brought  up  on  still  farther  back  lines,  when  delicacy 
was  considered  one  of  the  greatest  virtues.  And  she  was 
an  only  child." 

"And  had  a  little  money  and  didn't  have  to  scramble 
as  we  always  have,"  laughed  Gertrude.  "  It  is  partly  in 
the  place,  too.  Cities  adapt  new  ideas  sooner  than  in- 
land towns.  The  world  goes  on  with  a  rush.  It  is  such 
a  great,  splendid  world,  Agnes." 


82  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"But  you  see  every  one  doesn't  like  the  rush.  So  it  is 
good  that  there  are  ways  of  satisfying  different  people." 

"  And  you  are  satisfied  ?  " 

Gertrude's  tone  was  as  much  wonder  as  assertion. 

Agnes  flushed  and  gave  an  irresolute  little  laugh. 

"  Not  satisfied  to  stop,"  she  replied.  "  I  want  ever  so 
many  more  things  to  happen,  things  I  can  help  along." 

"As  what  ?" 

"I  want  Virgie  to  get  well  and  strong.  I  think  she 
has  some  rather  curious  traits,  and  she  is  fond  of  learning 
about  people  and  what  they  have  done.  Perhaps  by  and 
by  you  can  help  her,  Gertrude.  And  Elsie  is  a  good  deal 
like  me ;  she  will  make  a  housekeeper  if  she  gets  the  right 
kind  of  training." 

"  Who  trained  you?"  There  was  a  spice  of  mischief 
in  Gertrude's  tone. 

"I  suppose  I  had  the  aptitude  for  it  that  you  had  for 
learning.  I  should  have  been  miserable  at  school,  and 
I  couldn't  go  about  as  you  have  done.  Yet  I  enjoy  your 
letters  better  than  any  book  I  have  ever  read.  They  are 
so  vivid,  you  can  see  the  places  and  the  people.  I  read 
them  to  Mr.  Rowdon,  and  he  used  to  look  so  for  their 
coming." 

"Then  if  they  do  you  so  much  good,  I  shall  write 
oftener." 

"  O,  please  do.  Virgie  was  so  delighted  when  you  de- 
scribed people." 

And  sometimes  Gertrude  had  wondered  what  she  should 
write  about  !  The  effort  had  been  irksome.  She  hardly 
thought  her  gossip,  often  put  in  to  fill  up,  would  prove 
so  entertaining.  Agnes  had  gone  far  beyond  her  in 
thoughtfulness  for  others. 

"We  have  settled  everybody's  fate  but  Luella's,"  she 


IN  A   STRAIT  BETWIXT  TWO.  83 

remarked,  presently.  "Agnes,  tell  me  what  I  had  better 
do.  I  have  promised  her  a  silk  frock,  and  I  shall  not 
give  her  one  of  my  old  ones,"  laughingly. 

"So  long  as  you  don't  encourage  any  of  her  wild 
vagaries  and  leave  her  just  where  she  is,  I  think  she  will 
come  to  some  common  sense.  There  are  not  many 
chances  in  life  like  yours,  but  she  has  an  idea  that  one 
has  only  to  go  and  ask  for  a  thing.  I  am  sure  you  tried 
quite  a  long  while." 

"And  had  a  great  many  hours  of  discouragement. 
There  are  so  many  people  for  each  place.  But — you  do 
not  think — she  may  marry?  " 

"  O,  that  is  mamma's  nonsense.  She  sees  with  the 
eye  of  faith  a  possible  lover  in  every  young  man.  Lu 
isn't  sentimental.     None  of  us  are." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  nonsense  masquerading  un- 
der the  name  of  sentiment,  Gertrude  knew.  There 
were  foolish  girls  who  thought  they  could  not  live  with- 
out the  regard  of  some  especial  man.  But  still,  there 
was  a  very  sacred  love.  Was  everybody  capable  of  it  ? 
Agnes  deserved  it  for  her  unselfishness,  her  care  for 
every  one's  welfare. 

"  At  least,"  thought  Gertrude,  "  I  can  give  her  a  truer 
appreciation  than  ever  before."  She  was  touched  by  a 
new  humility,  a  tenderness  she  had  not  known  in  the 
past. 

Yet  she  was  not  sorry  when  the  summons  came  for  her 
to  join  Mrs.  Townsend.  Not  that  the  days  had  been  ab- 
solutely tiresome,  and  she  had  found  many  things  to  do 
for  them  all.     But  the  round  was  small,  the  life  narrow. 

"I  shall  miss  you  so  much,"  Agnes  said.  "But  the 
letters  will  begin  again.  Yes,"  with  a  sudden  brightness, 
"  I  think  it  is  a  good  thing  that  you  should  be  out  in  the 


84  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

world,  gathering  up  treasures  for  us.  You  know  now 
they  are  not  wasted." 

She  would  never  feel  so  again.  She  began  to  see  that 
there  were  duties  beside  sending  money  home  now  and 
then  and  thinking  all  the  rest  of  life  belonged  to  herself. 

There  had  been  a  curious  little  fear  lest  she  should 
hear  again  from  Sherburne  Beaumanoir.  He  was  im- 
pulsive and  considered  his  own  pleasures,  and  was  quite 
used  to  taking  the  enjoyment  even  if  he  went  a  little  out 
of  his  way  to  do  it,  and  trenched  on  that  of  another. 

There  had  been  a  very  joyous  time  at  Sherburne  over 
him,  a  kind  of  feast  with  the  families  gathered  in  as  far 
as  they  could.  But  ah,  how  they  had  strayed  off. 
Beaumanoir  was  a  rather  lonely  place  now  with  no  young 
life  gladdening,  making  merry,  and  sometimes  bringing 
sorrow.  Even  the  sorrows  and  anxieties  were  sweet  re- 
membrances to  the  two  old  people  who  had  a  great  deal 
of  time  to  gather  up  the  olden  threads  and  weave  anew 
the  various  patterns  of  life. 

Yet  they  felt  they  had  been  very  happy  in  their  chil- 
dren. Judge  Beaumanoir  coming  to  a  ripe  busy  middle 
life,  much  more  ambitious  for  honors  than  in  early  man- 
hood. Was  it  not  true  that  children  spurred  one  on  ? 
Millicent  and  Violet  in  lovely  homes  of  their  own,  Fanny 
and  Doctor  Underwood  near  by  and  a  continual  source 
of  interest,  Edward  really  renewing  his  youth  in  the  ease 
and  content  of  his  second  marriage,  Cecil  in  Russia. 
And  there  was  Lyndell  Carew,  as  dear  as  any  of  them, 
and  Doctor  Carew  like  another  son. 

After  a  brief  glimpse  at  home  and  a  warm  welcome 
from  their  father,  the  Baltimore  cousins  had  come  to 
Sherburne.  Princess  was  the  envy  of  the  girls  about, 
she  had  so   many  cavaliers,  but  she  was  very  generous 


IN  A    STRAIT  BETWIXT  TWO.  85 

with  them.  Sherburne  was  her  choicest  possession  just 
now  ;  they  had  the  arrears  of  two  years  to  make  up.  But 
Bertram  was  shooting  up  into  a  tall  boy  and  would  go  to 
college  next  year. 

Professor  Kenneth  had  promised  them  a  week. 

"Maybe  you  won't  like  him  just  at  first,"  explained 
Bertram,  "but  he  knows  so  much  and  is  so  interested  in 
everything.  We  did  have  such  a  delightful  time  with 
him  on  the  island." 

"Isn't  he  rather  sweet  on  that  Miss  Ensign,  Princess? 
And  how  charming  Mrs.  Kenneth  is.  Of  course  she 
would  be  very  likely  to  chose  her  brother's  wife " 

"He  doesn't  want  any  wife,"  interposed  Bertram, 
eagerly.  "  He  is  just  splendid  as  he  is.  There  ought  to 
be  some  men  left  for  the  boys.  Ruth  Ensign  is  well 
enough,  but  I  liked  Gertie  Maurice  ever  so  much 
better.  She  was  lots  of  fun  !  Did  you  like  her  just  as 
well,  Princess,  or  has  traveling  about  the  world  spoiled 
her?" 

"  No,  she  isn't  spoiled.  And  she  keeps  a  warm  re- 
membrance of  last  summer.  I  think  she  has  grown 
prettier." 

"Some  girls  really  need  to  grow  prettier,"  declared 
astute  seventeen,  "but  she  is  so  bright  you  never  think 
whether  she  is  pretty  or  not." 

"She  has  grown  more  dignified." 

"I  wish  you  had  asked  her  down  here.  I  think  she 
would  have  thrown  dignity  to  the  winds.  She  was  al- 
ways so  ready  to  do  anything." 

"Is  it  too  late  now?  "  asked  Sherburne. 

"It  is  too  early,"  said  Princess,  with  a  little  unwil- 
lingness she  did  not  understand  herself.  "  She  is  to  go 
home  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Townsend  can  spare  her.     And 


86  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

when  she  has  not  been  home  for  almost  a  year  she  must 
be  anxious  to  see  her  people.  I  suppose  her  vacation 
depends  on  Mrs.  Townsend's  need  of  her." 

"Anyhow,  we  want  the  professor  first." 

Princess  had  found  it  delightful  to  be  welcomed  home 
by  a  wide  circle.  Grandmamma  and  everybody  took  it 
for  granted  that  her  school  days  were  over.  And  she 
had  resolved  to  go  to  college.  There  was  so  much  she 
still  wanted  to  learn. 

Ray  had  come  with  her.  Violet  Osborne  had  gone 
with  the  Amorys  to  their  cottage  at  Atlantic  City,  where 
they  hoped  to  gather  most  of  the  cousins  in  August. 

"I  do  not  see  any  need  of  a  college  course  for  you," 
the  judge  had  said,  kindly,  to  his  sweet,  youthful  daugh- 
ter. "  You  will  not  teach — there  are  enough  women  in 
the  world  who  must  do  something,  and  those  who  are 
not  compelled  to  enter  the  ranks  ought  to  give  the  oppor- 
tunity to  their  less  favored  sisters.  Your  mother  and  I 
want  you  at  home — a  few  years  at  least,"  smiling  rather 
mysteriously. 

Could  she  give  up  her  dream  and  be  happy  ? 

' '  There  are  the  two  boys  to  look  after,  and  then — three 
more.  It  will  quite  shake  my  purse,"  he  said,  humor- 
ously. 

The  first  three  children  had  trodden  closely  upon  each 
other,  but  the  others  at  wider  intervals.  There  were  two 
girls  and  then  Lawrence,  much  younger.  There  were 
times  when  Tessy  Beaumanoir  felt  lonely  without  a  baby 
in  the  house,  and  was  almost  sorry  to  think  of  coming 
manhood  and  womanhood. 

Yes,  Princess  understood,  and  she  was  one  to  accept 
without  much  friction.  She  was  needed  at  home.  She 
had  duties  as  a  daughter.     And  when  she  thought  it  over 


IN  A   STRAIT  BETWIXT  TWO.  87 

seriously  it  was  not  so   much   from   a  desire  to  make  a 
place  for  herself,  as  a  hunger  for  knowledge. 

Her  mother  was  so  glad  to  get  her  at  home  once  more, 
and  did  need  her  in  the  entertainment  of  guests,  for 
Sherburne  House  was  hospitable  to  the  last  degree.  Had 
she  not  a  duty  here  ?  It  seemed  to  her  everything  so  far 
had  been  pleasure  even  when  she  called  them  duties. 
Was  she  to  take  all  the  agreeable  things  with  a  joy  diffus- 
ing satisfaction,  and  draw  back  when  her  will  and  de- 
sires were  crossed  ?     Was  it  really  for  ambition's  sake  ? 

And  how  cheerfully  Ray  Stanwood  was  accepting  the 
new  life  planned  out  for  her  !  The  care  of  her  grand- 
mother, and  the  supervision  of  her  father's  house.  True 
she  would  have  many  advantages  of  society,  and  there 
would  be  the  Amorys  at  hand.  But  was  there  not  some- 
thing finer  than  mere  duty  in  it  ? 

After  all,  could  not  duty  be  made  high  and  fine  and 
sweet,  a  thing  one  took  up  with  gladness  ?  For  when 
you  came  to  think,  a  great  deal  of  life  was  duty  one 
owed  to  parents  and  friends,  to  the  world.  When  there 
was  a  choice  between  two  things  there  could  be  an  elec- 
tion. 

Then  she  came  to  know  of  a  disappointment  laid  upon 
her  father,  and  resolved  at  once  that  she  would  not  add 
anything  to  his  dissatisfaction.  She  would  give  up  cheer- 
fully with  no  longing.  She  would  make  herself  happy  in 
her  work  here. 

Doctor  Carew  had  written  a  most  kindly  and  solicitous 
letter  to  the  judge  after  several  talks  with  Sherburne  about 
his  future  profession. 

"We  must  not  have  Leonard  think  we  have  overper- 
suaded,"  Lyndell  said. 

"  My  persuasions  have  been  mostly  of  the  other  way," 


88  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Carew  said,  with  a  deflection  of  the  brows  that  was 
more  uncertainty  than  vexation.  "I  can  see  the  pride 
Leonard  would  take  in  a  son  who  was  following  in  his 
footsteps.  And  whether  Sherburne  would  be  satisfied 
with  the  life  that  looks  so  attractive  to  him  now " 

"  O  dear  !  "  and  Dell  made  a  pretty  dainty  moue  that 
accorded  well  with  the  motion  of  the  shoulders,  "  it  will  be 
our  turn  next  to  consider  what  is  to  be  done  with  our 
children.  I  am  frightened  when  I  think  how  the  years 
fly." 

"  We  have  had  great  comfort  and  delight  in  them,  my 
dear  wife;  "  and  he  placed  his  hand  caressingly  over  her 
shoulder. 

"But  we  shall  have  a  double  portion,  for  the  twins 
will  be  grown  up  at  the  same  time.  Only  the  girls  do 
seem  to  get  ahead  of  the  boys." 

"The  refining  process  begins  a  little  sooner." 

"Go  and  write  your  letter,"  the  wife  said  with  pretty 
peremptoriness. 

The  letter  had  given  Judge  Beaumanoir  a  heartache. 
Not  altogether  because  his  son's  path  was  likely  to 
diverge,  but  that  so  far  he  made  no  further  mention  of 
any  decision  since  he  had  changed  his  mind  about  a  lit- 
erary professorship  some  months  before.  It  pained  him 
not  to  be  first  in  his  son's  confidence.  He  would  have 
felt  angry  if  it  had  been  any  other  man  than  Doctor  Carew. 

But  Sherburne  was  having  the  best  of  good  times. 
Everybody  gave  him  a  warm  welcome,  had  lawn  tennis 
parties,  teas,  dances,  picnics,  sails.  Bertram  was  a  great 
favorite  as  well.  And  when  the  two  cousins  came 
they  almost  ran  into  dissipation.  The  flavor  of  simple 
pleasure  was  not  spoiled  by  deep-laid  plans  and  enticing 
wiles  to  catch  husbands. 


IN  A   STRAIT  BETWIXT  TWO.  89 

"O  dear  !  "  and  Bertram  holding  a  letter  in  his  hand 
indulged  in  the  luxury  of  a  most  woe-begone  expression. 
"What  do  you  think  has  happened,  or  is  going  to  hap- 
pen ? ' ' 

"Until  it  does  happen  do  not  despair,"  said  Ray, 
sententiously. 

"But  it  has  happened,  or  the  first  part  of  it.  The 
professor  cannot  come.  He  was  to  go  to  Labrador  and 
the  Commission  has  been  ordered  away  a  fortnight  earlier 
than  he  expected.  And  now  he  has  just  been  settling 
Mrs.  Kenneth  for  the  summer.  O  Ray,  you  ought  to 
read  what  he  says  about  Ruth  Ensign,  here — turning 
over  a  leaf.  I  suppose  she  is  wonderfully  nice  and  all 
that,  but  we've  known  so  many  nice  girls,  we  have  them 
of  our  own;"  and  he  laughed  mischievously.  "That 
doesn't  make  up  for  my  disappointment." 

Ray  colored  at  the  praise  for  her  kindly  discrimination 
in  choosing  Ruth.  As  soon  as  Mrs.  Kenneth  was  really 
settled  and  rested,  she  should  write  Ray  a  good  long  let- 
ter of  gratitude  for  giving  her  a  new  daughter. 

"O,  you  can  both  read  it  all.  I  do  believe  the  pro- 
fessor is  very  much  disappointed  for  he  wanted  to  see 
Sherburne  House  and  Beaumanoir.  But  he  thinks  we 
have  so  many  young  people." 

It  was  quite  a  chatty  letter,  adapted  to  a  boy's  com- 
prehension, and  indulging  in  quiet  bits  of  fun  by  way 
of  comfort.  They  would  hardly  miss  him  just  now,  and 
if  all  should  prove  agreeable  he  would  try  to  be  there 
early  in  September,  and  Bertram  could  come  up  with 
him. 

"I  do  not  deserve  quite  so  much  credit  about  Ruth," 
said  Ray,  with  a  soft  flush.  "  It  was  just  a  thought,  and 
yet  I  couldn't  help  thinking  that  I  should  like  to  fill  the 


90  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

place  if  I  had  been — without  a  home.  Mrs.  Kenneth 
and  Margaret  were  so  utterly  lovely  through  my  illness. 
O,  I  do  wonder  if  Margaret  will  ever  be  jealous  !  " 

"She  has  her  husband.  She  could  not  devote  herself 
entirely  to  her  mother." 

"And — somehow,  Princess,  I  can't  help  feeling  that  in 
the  end  the  professor  will  marry  Ruth."  Ray  said  this 
for  her  own  comfort  and  strengthening.  She  had  been 
made  aware  during  her  convalescence  the  year  before 
how  very  easy  it  would  be  to  love  him,  but  friendly  as  he 
had  been  there  was  no  peculiar  sentiment  in  his  regard. 
But  he  would  see  Ruth  so  often. 

"Well — why  not?     Only — she  seems  so  young." 

"  About  our  age.  And  she  will  have  quite  a  little  for- 
tune. She  will  be  like  another  daughter  to  Mrs.  Ken- 
neth." 

Princess  colored  suddenly  in  spite  of  her  effort. 

"Princess  dear,"  putting  her  arm  about  her  cousin's 
waist — "are  you  sorry  I  spoke  of  Ruth?  She  was  so 
anxious  to  do  something  that  would  give  her  a  home 
until  she  saw  her  way  a  little  clearer.  And  it  would 
have  been  no  use  to  try  to  live  with  her  grandmother. 
Even  the  doctor  protested  against  that.  And  Mrs.  Ken- 
neth wanted  some  young  person ' ' 

"  O,  no,  no  !  "  cried  Princess,  eagerly.  "  We  have  so 
much  love  we  need  not  grudge  Ruth  that,  even  if  we  are 
rather  jealous  and  want  Mrs.  Kenneth's  regard,"  smiling 
a  little  out  of  frank  and  tender  eyes. 

Ray  smiled,  too.  "  And  whatever  happens  will  be  a 
lovely  thing  for  both  of  them,"  she  said,  proud  of  herself 
that  she  had  crowded  down  some  faintly  jealous  feeling. 
Even  if  any  one  asked  her  in  marriage,  and  she  had  a 
premonition  that  no  one  ever  would,  she  must  fulfil  the 


IN  A  STRAIT  BETWIXT  TWO.  91 

duty  made  so  plain  to  the  two  who  had  been  glad  and 
thankful  to  have  her. 

There  was  a  call  for  the  girls,  and  some  new  pleasure 
on  hand.  Sherburne  seemed  to  think  they  must  always 
be  ready  for  any  turn  of  fancy,  and  if  ever  there  was  a 
slight  protest  he  said  pathetically — "And  when  I  have 
been  away  two  whole  years,"  which  would  have  con- 
quered the  most  obdurate  girl. 

They  went  over  to  the  river  for  a  row  down  to  one  of 
the  islands,  and  on  the  way  they  picked  up  a  few  more  to 
join  them  in  a  merry  time.  Princess  sang  for  them, 
helped  get  the  picnic  dinner  and  was  the  brightest  in  re- 
membering quotations  from  Shakespeare  to  grace  the 
feast. 

Yet  through  it  all  her  heart  was  heavy.  Some  special 
brightness  seemed  gone  out  of  the  sun,  though  it  shone 
over  the  long  reaches  of  field  and  quivered  about  the 
woodlands.  Now  and  then  she  lost  what  some  one  said 
as  her  thoughts  wandered  a  little.  What  had  happened 
to  her  ! 

"You  look  tired,"  said  her  mother,  tenderly,  patting 
the  soft  cheek  and  kissing  the  cool  brow.  "To-morrow 
must  be  rest  day — the  boys  shall  not  take  you  out  any- 
where." 

"  I  am  a  little  tired,"  Princess  admitted. 

"And  next  week  you  are  all  to  go  to  Atlantic  City, 
when  there  will  be  more  dissipation.  You  must  be  fresh 
for  that." 

Sherburne  decided  to  go  to  Baltimore  with  his  cousins. 
Another  little  plan  he  did  not  consider  necessary  to  con- 
fide to  any  one. 

"Sherburne,"  his  father  said,  as  they  sat  out  on  the 
piazza  the  last  evening,  "it  is  almost  time  to  consider 


92  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

plans  for  the  future,  if  you  have  anything  beyond  vague 
ideas.     It  is  time  you  settled  to  some  permanency." 

"I  think  I  have  about  settled.  I  was  talking  with 
Uncle  Bertram  while  I  was  in  New  York " 

Judge  Beaumanoir  kept  silent.  Sherburne  was  a  little 
embarrassed.  He  had  promised  the  doctor  he  would 
consult  his  father  at  the  earliest  opportunity,  but  some- 
thing was  always  happening. 

"I  think  I  shall  take  up  medicine.  Dr.  Underwood 
and  Dr.  Carew  set  one  a  fine  example.  I  concluded  I 
wanted  something  with  a  wider  scope  than  a  professor's 
chair,  something  that  brings  me  nearer  in  touch  with 
real  people.  I  hope  you  don't  object?  "  when  he  waited 
a  moment  or  two  for  his  father's  comment. 

"  I  should  not  object  to  any  course  into  which  you  put 
your  whole  heart  and  soul,  and  that  was  best  calculated 
to  develop  your  highest  possibilities.  Still,  I  confess 
frankly  I  had  hoped " 

Sherburne  was  playing  with  the  little  spaniel  who  sud- 
denly bounced  down  the  steps  and  uttered  a  sharp  yelp, 
and  he  rushed  to  pick  it  up. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  as  he  glanced  at  his  father's 
grave  face.  "  I  am  afraid  the  law  hasn't  quite  the  right 
scope  for  me.  And  I  am  sorry  if  you — but  you  certainly 
can't  have  any  objections,  if — if  it  isn't  quite  what  you 
had  hoped,"  with  the  confident  ring  of  youth  in  his 
voice. 

"I  shall  not  object  if  you  are  in  earnest,  and  choose 
from  firm  convictions,"  was  the  grave  reply. 

"  It  is  a  noble  profession." 

' '  When  nobly  carried  out — yes.  Yet  it  seems  to  me 
there  is  as  much  call  for  noble  minds  in  building  up  the 
walls  of  justice  and  probity,  and  quite  as  high  problems 


IN  A   STRAIT  BETWIXT  TWO.  93 

to  solve  in  law.  It  leads  to  some  of  the  best  positions, 
some  of  the  greatest  honors,  and  though  it  may  be  used 
for  perverted  ends,  a  man  can  be  as  upright  in  this  walk 
as  in  any  other.  I  hoped  some  son  of  mine  would  take 
up  my  work  when  I  was  ready  to  lay  it  down.  He  would 
have  the  prestige  of  an  honorable  name,  and  step  into  an 
enviable  connection.  I  can  see  that  Bertram's  heart  is 
elsewhere ' ' 

There  was  little  Larry  left,  but  it  would  be  years  before 
he  could  make  any  election. 

"I  am  sorry  we  can't  look  at  the  matter  alike,"  the 
young  fellow  said,  in  a  softened  tone  that  he  meant  for 
partial  regret.  "  It  isn't  altogether  a  new  thought  with 
me." 

The  father  sighed  regretfully.  It  had  been  quite  a 
dream  of  late  that  he  and  his  son  would  work  on  the 
same  lines.  The  companionship  would  have  been  so 
grateful,  so  cheering.  But  he  could  not  insist  or  force 
his  inclinations. 

"You  will  find  a  good  deal  of  detail  and  drudgery. 
And  it  is  not  given  to  every  man  to  come  up  with  such 
bounds  as  Doctor  Carew.  Do  not  look  at  his  career  and 
idealize  too  much,  but  make  up  your  mind  to  good, 
hard,  solid  work." 

"  O  the  work  doesn't  frighten  me.  Uncle  Bertram 
said  I  must  discuss  the  matter  with  you,  but  I  told  him  I 
knew  you  would  consent  to  whatever  I  had  set  my  heart 
upon." 

Had  youth  any  deep  seriousness  of  purpose?  He 
looked  at  his  gay,  handsome  son  as  he  sat  there  on  the 
step,  thrown  up  clearly  by  the  long  ray  of  lamplight 
streaming  from  the  window,  and  it  brought  back  the  re- 
membrance of  his  own  careless  youth,  of  the  follies  even 


94  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

of  his  two  years  of  invalidism,  his  headstrong  perversity, 
his  love  of  his  own  will  and  pleasure.  So  far,  though 
Sherburne  had  been  rather  extravagant,  he  had  committed 
no  overt  act  of  folly.  Surely  he  could  trust  him  to  Ber- 
tram Carew  and  his  dear  Cousin  Dell,  who  had  really 
been  one  of  the  good  angels  of  his  life,  the  other  being 
his  beloved  helpmeet,  whose  trust  he  had  never  for  an 
instant  betrayed. 

But  he  had  built  up  a  fine  reputation,  and  he  would 
have  been  glad  for  his  son  to  come  after  him  and  reap  its 
advantages.     Yet  he  said  graciously  : 

"  Whatever  you  feel  equal  to,  that  is  the  right  thing 
for  you  to  undertake." 

Then  he  went  in  for  comfort  to  the  sweet  wife  of  his 
youth. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ACCEPTANCE. 

'TpHE  consciousness  that  was  a  long  time  coming  to 
-*-  Princess  Beaumanoir,  that  filled  her  at  first  with 
incredulity,  and  later  with  a  protest  in  which  was  a  deli- 
cate half  shame,  stole  over  her  at  last  with  a  convincing 
force.  All  the  year  she  had  been  dreaming  of  some  one's 
commendation.  She  had  been  striving  to  reach  heights 
that  he  had  approved  and  thought  worthy  of  one's  best 
and  truest  aim.  Was  it  not  to  come  nearer  to  his  fine 
standard  that  she  had  wanted  to  go  on  in  the  ways  of 
fascinating  knowledge  ? 

She  had  been  more  disappointed  than  she  would  have 
cared  to  own,  than  she  could  have  owned  to  any  human 
being,  when  Professor  Kenneth's  visit  had  been  delayed. 
There  had  been  so  few  crosses  in  her  young  life,  every 
thing  had  gone  smoothly,  joyously,  and  at  first  she  felt 
bewildered,  almost  indignant  that  any  one  should  suppose 
the  grave  self-centred  man  deep  in  the  beginnings  of  the 
world's  history  should  stop  to  care  for  any  girl.  But 
Aunt  Millicent  had  suggested  it  a  year  ago,  and  after  all, 
what  more  natural  than  that  it  should  be  Ruth  Ensign  ? 
He  had  seen  so  much  of  her  this  summer.  And  Mrs. 
Kenneth  was  very  fond  of  her.  She  just  fitted  into  the 
place,  which  must  have  been  made  hers  from  the  begin- 
ning. 

Everybody  thought   so,   it    seemed.     Grown-up   eyes 

95 


96  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

must  be  wiser,  eyes  that  had  not  lost  themselves  in  the 
fascinating  radiance  of  dreams,  could  see  more  clearly. 
She  had  been  half  asleep  in  the  enchanted  land  of  pos- 
sibility, and  now  she  roused  herself  with  a  resolute  shake. 
She  could  almost  wish  she  were  Bertram,  going  to  see 
him  every  day,  to  study,  to  be  helped  onward  in  the 
attractive  realm  of  knowledge.  She  could  spend  even- 
ings then  Avith  Mrs.  Kenneth  and  watch  happy  Ruth, 
sweet  and  smiling— any  girl  must  be  proud  and  happy 
whom  the  professor  loved. 

For  herself,  she  had  made  a  mistake  and  almost  fallen 
to  coveting  what  was  her  neighbor's.  But  it  was  a  thing 
one  could  live  over,  put  away  with  swift  hands  like  any 
other  temptation.  She  was  too  healthy  toned  to  brood 
over  such  a  thing,  once  convinced. 

If  she  needed  any  other  tonic  draught  she  had  it  in 
Ruth's  letter.  They  had  not  gone  far  away  this  time, 
to  a  pretty  little  settlement  on  the  ocean  side  of  Long 
Island,  a  great,  old-fashioned,  roomy  house,  where  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Drayton  and  the  two  children  would  come 
presently  and  Mrs.  Mallory  with  her  two.  The  Carews 
were  to  take  a  yachting  tour  up  to  Newfoundland ;  two 
of  the  children  had  been  rather  ailing  and  the  doctor 
very  tired  out.  Of  course  Princess  had  heard  all  this 
news  at  first  hand. 

There  had  been  some  lovely  letters  from  Mrs.  Phillips, 
who  was  very  happy.  And  Professor  Kenneth  had  stayed 
three  days  getting  them  settled,  as  he  had  to  go  to  Lab- 
rador sooner  than  he  expected.  They  had  been  out  row- 
ing one  day  and  were  caught  in  a  shower,  but  she  had 
not  felt  afraid,  and  though  it  was  rough  it  was  grand  as 
well.  He  had  brought  them  a  plentiful  supply  of  books, 
and  he  would  come  to  them  at  once  on  his  return.     Life 


ACCEPTANCE.  97 

was  so  glad  and  full  that  sometimes  she  was  afraid  she 
had  more  than  her  share. 

All  that  God  sent  was  her  share.  There  had  been 
many  dark  days  in  her  eighteen  years.  Now  the  sun- 
shine and  smiling  skies  had  come,  and  Princess  was  glad 
for  her  friend.     She  would  never  envy  her  again. 

They  had  a  gay,  happy  time  in  the  city  by  the  sea, 
when  the  cousins  were  all  together.  They  sailed,  they 
promenaded,  they  made  sketches,  they  danced  in  the 
evening  and  older  people  looked  on  and  wondered  if  they 
had  ever  had  such  a  good  time  in  their  youth. 

Sherburne  Beaumanoir  was  a  trifle  annoyed  by  Miss 
Maurice's  answer  to  his  note.  It  was  not  curt,  rather  too 
business-like  and  evasive.  After  that  he  dared  not  take 
in  the  little  town,  for  he  was  a  gentleman. 

He  was  lounging  on  the  sands  one  afternoon  beside 
Princess,  to  whom  he  had  just  brought  a  handful  of 
letters. 

"This  is  from  Ruth,"  she  said.  "And  O,  this  is 
from  Kitty  Saxon." 

"And  is  there  one  from  the  other  girl — that  came  to 
your  luncheon  in  New  York?"  asked  the  deceitful  young 
man,  in  his  most  indifferent  tone. 

"  Miss  Maurice?  No.  She  is  a  queer  correspondent. 
She  did  write  me  one  letter  a  day  or  two  after  she  went 
home.     O,  I  believe  I  have  not  answered  it." 

"  You  naughty  girl !     What  is  her  home  like  ?  " 

"They  live  in  an  old,  old  house  that  belonged  to  her 
mother's  father " 

"  Then  she  had  a  grandfather  ?  " 

"  O  yes.  They  are  old  Delaware  people.  You  know 
there  are  a  great  many  nice,  comparatively  poor  people 
scattered  about  the  world," 


98  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  young  mentor.  But  her  folks  were 
able  to  send  her  to  school  with  the  aristocracy,  it  seems." 

"  The  way  it  came  was  this.  I  suppose  I  may  tell  over 
the  story,  since  she  did  not  make  any  secret  of  it.  I  think 
she  is  very  honest.  And  it  was  delightful  that  she  should 
meet  Mrs.  Townsend." 

Sherburne  was  much  interested  in  the  school  episode 
and  the  marriage  of  her  sister. 

"  I  suppose  the  home  isn't " 

"  Things  go  at  very  loose  ends,  I  fancy." 

Princess  colored  a  little,  thinking  of  Uncle  Con.  That 
was  his  secret,  and  she  had  no  right  to  even  suggest  there 
was  a  secret. 

Sherburne  comforted  himself  with  the  thought  that 
Miss  Maurice  had  a  good  deal  of  pride  and  her  home 
was  not  quite  what  she  would  like  to  invite  curious  eyes 
to  inspect.     But  she  need  not  have  minded  him. 

"  O,  look  at  this,"  exclaimed  Princess,  a  few  days 
later,  holding  a  paper  in  her  hand.  "Mrs.  Townsend 
has  gone  to  Chautauqua.  She  is  to  speak  in  two  of  the 
courses.     And  I  suppose  Miss  Maurice  went  with  her." 

Sherburne  was  devoted  in  an  amusing  fashion  to  Pearl 
Amory,  who  was  proud  of  her  good-looking  cousin. 

Princess  found  Ned  Beaumanoir  very  entertaining. 
He  could  talk  to  one  girl  very  well,  and  he  knew  so 
many  curious  things,  even  if  he  did  not  shine  in  general 
society.  But  Sherburne  soon  became  a  prime  favorite, 
and  was  in  great  demand  among  the  girls  outside  of 
cousinly  lines.  Bertram  was  hardly  old  enough  to  enjoy 
the  badinage,  but  he  did  like  the  sails  and  the  rowing, 
and  the  walks  along  the  beach.  He  often  coaxed  Prin- 
cess to  accompany  him.  And  he  let  her  read  the  pro- 
fessor's letters,  which  were  full  of  entertainment. 


ACCEPTANCE.  99 

"  He  seems  just  like  another  boy  with  you,"  said  Prin- 
cess, with  a  soft  smile  in  her  eyes. 

"  He  is.  A  splendid,  wise  big  boy  that  you  can  never 
bother  with  questions.  If  he  can't  talk  about  the  subject 
just  then,  he  gets  you  a  book  to  read  about  it.  I  don't 
see  how  he  can  remember  so  many  things.  And  if  I 
wasn't  myself  and  going  up  to  Columbia  College,  and 
had  to  be  a  girl,  I'd  just  like  to  be  Ruth  Ensign." 

Princess  felt  a  sudden  heat  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Wasn't  it  queer  that  we  should  think  him  old  up 
there  on  Melchias  island?"  Then  Bertram  laughed. 
"But  I  am  glad  I  don't  have  to  be  a  girl,  though  you 
are  so  sweet,  Princess.  Boys  have  such  jolly  good  times, 
and  they  don't  have  to  think  about  growing  up  and  put- 
ting on  long  gowns  and  doing  their  hair.  And  when 
they  are  as  large  as  Sher  and  can  do  as  they  like 

"  He  hasn't  all  the  rights.  I  believe  you  have  to  be 
twenty-one  to  reach  a  state  of  independence." 

"But  papa  doesn't  decide  for  him  any  longer.  Now 
if  he  had  thought  /couldn't  go  to  Columbia,  I  suppose 
I  must  have  given  in " 

Sherburne  had  not  given  in  to  his  father's  desires, 
Princess  remembered.  She  had  hardly  wanted  to.  And 
just  then  she  had  a  girlish  idea  that  she  ought  to  help 
make  up  for  the  other  disappointment.  She  had  been 
finding  duties  toward  Bertram.  And  there  were  three 
younger  children.     Surely  there  were  duties  enough. 

Mrs.  Osborne  had  decided  to  leave  Violet  for  the  win- 
ter with  her  uncle  and  aunt.  Even  now  Mr.  Amory 
gave  her  an  hour's  lesson  every  day  in  painting,  and 
not  only  that,  but  a  walk  and  a  talk  about  nature,  and 
the  continual  variations,  the  solemn  beauty  of  the  night, 
the  changeful  brilliance  of  the  day  from  glowing  sunrise 


ioo  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

to  golden  sunset,  the  curves  of  the  swelling  and  retreat- 
ing sea  with  its  crested  foam  or  melancholy  music  of  re- 
gret growing  fainter  and  fainter,  the  long  stretches  of 
blue-grey  expanse  that  met  the  curve  of  the  other  blue. 
She  had  so  many  artistic  thoughts,  such  vivid  apprecia- 
tion— if  he  could  rouse  in  her  the  true  artistic  ambition  ! 
Could  one  so  inspire  a  girl  ? 

For  the  girl's  heart  turned  to  fun  and  pleasure  and 
pretty  gowns,  and  what  Washington  would  be  in  the  win- 
ter and  the  dances  and  merrymaking. 

"I'm  glad  I  haven't  any  genius,"  Pearl  Amory  said, 
frequently.  "  I  shall  not  have  to  make  efforts  to  reach 
up  to  grand  heights,  but  just  sit  gracefully  and  talk  in  my 
most  fascinating  manner." 

"  And  draw  admirers  to  your  feet.  You  do  love  to  be 
admired,  Pearl." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  do,"  shaking  her  head  in  an  expression 
of  assumed  penitence,  as  if  she  were  really  confessing.  "  I 
don't  know  why  I  shouldn't.  I  am  human  and  can  ap- 
preciate it.  What  good  does  it  do  the  sun  if  you  go  in 
raptures  over  the  sunset,  and  does  old  ocean  ever  stop 
to  thank  you  for  all  the  sentiment  wasted  upon  him. 
He  is  like  the  rain,  he  falls  on  the  just  and  unjust 
alike,  but  what  is  worse  he  devours  them  without  mercy, 
while  the  rain  only  leaves  them  drenched  and  dripping. 
And  no  matter  what  sonnets  you  may  write  in  his  honor, 
or  how  exquisitely  you  may  paint  him,  does  he  ever 
thank  you  ?  ' ' 

The  girls  laughed. 

"But  I  have  heard  that  admiration  was  very  bad  for 
girls,"  returned  Violet,  sententiously. 

"  Then  you  must  not  excel  in  painting,  or  you  will 
surely  get  a  dose  of  it.     Princess,  if  you  are  a  college 


ACCEPTANCE.  101 

girl  some  one  will  come  along  and  admire  your  attain- 
ments. Think  of  the  snares  and  temptations  that  beset  a 
girl  !  " 

They  did  not  lay  it  much  to  heart,  however.  They 
were  not  quite  full  fledged  society  girls,  and  enjoyed  the 
delights  with  youthful  zest.  Having  a  train  of  boys  of 
their  own  they  were  quite  independent.  Mrs.  Amory 
was  anxious  to  put  off  as  long  as  possible  the  real  en- 
trance into  young  womanhood. 

But  the  weeks  passed  rapidly.  Mrs.  Amory  desired  to 
make  a  little  visit  at  home,  as  Millicent  and  Mr.  Drayton 
were  to  come  for  a  fortnight.  It  was  always  so  pleasant 
to  meet  in  the  dear  old  place  that  held  so  many  tender 
associations,  though  each  year  Millicent  saw  changes. 
Her  parents  were  quite  elderly  people.  Leonard  was 
touching  the  borders  of  middle  life.  She  herself  was  a 
grandmother,  which  seemed  very  odd  to  her.  For  with 
her  two  young  children  time  seemed  to  have  run  back. 

They  all  said — "If  Dell  were  only  here."  They 
talked  of  the  years  that  had  slipped  by  with  few 
changes,  except  the  inevitable  growth,  the  growing  out  of 
babyhood  for  the  children,  the  added  years  for  those  v/ho 
were  children  only  such  a  little  while  ago. 

"  Dell  and  the  doctor  have  not  taken  a  real  journey  to- 
gether in  a  long  while,"  said  Leonard.  "They  have 
been  very  busy  people.  I  am  glad  they  have  had  to  en- 
large their  borders — get  a  new  home  that  will  give  them 
more  room  in  which  to  enjoy  things.  And  the  children 
are  coming  on  apace.  It  seems  natural  for  Dell  to  be 
the  mother  of  babies,  but  grown  men  and  women  !  " 

"  '  We  have  our  day  and  cease  to  be,'  "  quoted  Milli- 
cent.    "And  the  others  take  our  places." 

"  I  just  wish   Sherburne  would   take   mine,"  said   her 


102  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

brother,  with  a  touch  of  disappointment.  "If  I  didn't 
know  Bertram  so  well  I  should  be  almost  jealous.  And 
he  really  advised  against  Sherburne's  fancy.  I  do  won- 
der if  the  boy  has  any  stability  ?  There  are  so  many  of  you 
in  New  York  to  make  it  delightful  for  him,  there  is  so 
much  to  see  and  hear.  Well,"  with  a  sigh — "I  remem- 
ber when  I  was  stirred  with  the  inconsistencies  of  youth." 

"  He  certainly  will  not  go  astray  under  the  doctor's 
fostering  care,"  said  Millicent. 

"  It  isn't  that.  If  I  could  trust  him  two  years  abroad, 
I  surely  can  trust  him  there.  But  it  gives  me  a  presenti- 
ment that  half  of  my  life-work  will  be  useless.  I  shall 
have  to  wait  years  for  another  son  to  grow  up." 

Yes,  the  defection  had  gone  deeply.  Millicent  felt 
very  sorry. 

They  had  all  been  interested  in  Dell's  new  house  that 
had  been  talked  of  for  several  years,  but  the  Carews  had 
not  the  courage  to  start  until  it  had  become  a  necessity, 
until  indeed  they  had  outgrown  the  old  one.  There 
were  so  many  tender  recollections  about  this  one.  Ber- 
tram's pride  in  providing  a  home  for  his  young  wife  when 
he  had  almost  urged  her  to  give  up  her  birthright,  and 
he  was  struggling  up  to  eminence  and  corresponding  for- 
tune. It  had  seemed  almost  extravagant  then ;  but  he 
had  been  more  than  satisfied  to  do  all  for  her,  even  if  she 
did  not  stand  in  need  of  his  strenuous  efforts. 

There  had  been  the  journey  through  Europe  made 
doubly  delightful  by  the  enjoyment  of  his  father  and  dear 
Aunt  Neale.  The  birth  of  the  twins,  the  second  home 
coming,  the  widening  sphere,  baby  Honor  and  Reese, 
and  after  an  interval  little  Florence  who  still  held  the 
charm  of  childhood.  Once  Bertram  had  gone  out  to 
California   to   inspect   the   philanthropic   settlement   that 


ACCEPTANCE.  103 

had  been  such  an  interest  to  them  all  and  was  now  a 
pretty  town  with  wise  restrictions.  They  always  talked 
of  other  journeys  they  would  make  together  when  the 
cares  of  a  busy  life  should  be  relegated  to  other  hands, 
and  the  children  a  little  more  grown  up. 

The  Draytons  had  been  abroad  for  a  year,  and  come 
home  with  the  freshened  atmosphere,  full  of  the  wonder- 
ful changes  there  as  well  as  at  home.  But  life  had  seemed 
so  rich,  they  had  no  lack  of  enjoyment,  hardly  indeed 
time  to  enjoy  the  feast  spread  out  on  every  side. 

In  the  spring  the  new  house  had  materialized.  The 
trend  was  further  up  town.  Business  and  crowded  apart- 
ment houses  had  rendered  the  neighborhood  less  desir- 
able. And  up  here  on  the  high  ground  one  had  the 
prospect  of  the  river  and  the  dusky  hills  on  the  other 
shore,  with  their  wooded  slopes  and  pretty  towns  half 
hidden  in  greenery.  The  park  would  be  below  them 
now.     All  around  was  refinement  and  quiet. 

And  now  there  would  be  room  for  the  two  boys, 
whose  loss  in  the  home  was  just  beginning  to  be  appre- 
ciated. School  and  university  had  been  borne  with 
equanimity,  but  this  would  cause  more  of  a  pang. 

"Still,  I  am  glad  Dell  will  be  like  a  mother  to  them," 
Tessy  said,  consolingly. 

Bertram  came  in  with  a  letter  one  morning. 

"Professor  Kenneth  has  returned  to  the  city,"  he 
announced.  "  He  is  going  out  to  get  Mrs.  Kenneth  and 
Ruth,  then  he  comes  to  some  kind  of  a  meeting  in  Balti- 
more, and  runs  down  here,  and  will  take  me  back  with 
him.  And  what  do  you  think  —  "  the  words  tumbling 
over  each  other — "Mrs.  Kenneth  has  asked  that  I  may 
spend  a  week  with  her  and  the  professor.  He  wants  to 
be  quite  sure  that  I  shall  stand  well  with  my  classes." 


104  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"She  is  very  good,"  said  his  mother.  "Only  she  is 
not  much  used  to  big  boys " 

"  But  she's  used  to  the  professor." 

"  He  is  such  a  quiet  gentleman." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  noisy  when  I  am  lost  in  a  book," 
protested  the  boy,  laughingly.  "  Of  course  when  I  am 
out  of  doors — but  there  is  no  out  of  doors  in  New  York 
except  parks,  and  there  they  don't  allow  you  to  '  make  the 
welkin  ring.'  Princess,  I  know  you'll  envy  me  Mrs. 
Kenneth,  and  maybe  Ruth." 

"I  am  not  going  to  envy  any  one,"  the  girl  returned, 
cheerfully. 

A  few  days  later  she  had  a  letter  from  Ruth  Ensign. 
The  weeks  had  been  delightful,  and  Mrs.  Kenneth  had 
improved  wonderfully.  She  talked  of  making  a  journey 
to  Sherburne  House  in  the  winter,  and  she,  Ruth,  would 
be  gratified  beyond  measure  to  see  the  place  that  had 
been  the  centre  of  so  many  joys  and  romances.  They 
would  have  several  days  with  the  professor,  whose  trip 
had  not  been  all  rest,  and  then  he  would  take  them  up 
home  and  get  them  settled  before  the  real  work  of  life  began. 

"Can  you  ever  imagine  what  all  this  is  to  me,"  wrote 
Ruth.  "  It  was  delightful  at  school  with  you  all,  and 
that  lovely  summer  I  can  never  forget.  I  think  I  came 
near  to  envying  the  girls  with  such  mothers  as  you  all 
had.  For  my  own  dear  mamma  and  I  had  led  such  a 
cramped  and  starved  life  that  though  love  kept  alive,  it 
hardly  had  a  chance  to  grow,  but  was  like  the  poor  pale 
grass  that  comes  up  between  stones  in  the  shade.  O, 
how  can  any  one  crush  out  all  the  joy  and  blessedness 
for  the  sake  of  hoarding  money  !  Sometimes,  Princess, 
I  am  so  sorry  for  poor  grandmother,  that  it  seems  as  if  I 
ought  to  fly  to  her  and  devote  my  life  to  her,  but  she  has 


ACCEPTANCE.  105 

never  loved  me,  for  she  was  angry  when  papa  married, 
and  stormed  when  I  was  born.  I  know  it  would  do  no 
good,  and  that  she  thinks  more  of  my  earning  a  little 
money  than  all  the  care  I  could  give  her.  And  Mrs. 
Kenneth  is  so  gracious  and  sweet  that  I  couldn't  help 
loving  her  even  if  I  wanted  to.  And  she  is  quite  sure 
she  will  want  me  to  go  on  and  on — what  do  you  think 
she  said  a  few  days  ago  ?  until  I  was  married  !  I  suppose 
it  would  be  delightful  to  have  a  home  of  one's  very  own, 
but  I  have  a  feeling  that  I  should  like  to  have  Mrs. 
Kenneth  in  it.  Sometimes  I  dream  of  such  lovely 
things  that  I  am  almost  frightened.  Yet  the  wildest 
things  do  sometimes  come  true." 

Princess  could  guess  what  the  dream  was.  Did  not 
every  girl  have  thoughts  of  a  home  of  her  own  ?  She 
would  no  doubt  have  it  some  day. 

Years  hence ; — she  owed  her  mother  a  loving  duty,  and 
now  that  Sherburne  had  in  some  degree  disappointed  her 
father,  he  would  need  her  daughterly  consideration. 
Would  it  really  benefit  her  to  go  to  college  ?  She  knew 
her  parents  were  not  in  favor  of  it.  She  could  diffuse 
more  real  happiness  by  staying  at  home  these  few  years, 
and  then  she  could  look  out  at  life  more  clearly,  and  un- 
derstand her  own  needs. 

She  saw  how  it  would  be  with  Ruth.  There  was  a 
little  pang,  but  she  had  father,  mother,  and  home,  while 
Ruth  had  never  known  a  happy  home  until  now.  It 
would  be  sinful  to  envy  her  anything. 

So  Princess  Beaumanoir  took  up  the  duty  that  lay  be- 
fore her,  and  tried  to  put  every  feeling  of  sacrifice  out  of 
her  mind.  What  was  she  sacrificing,  really  ?  For  if  she 
wanted  to  excel  in  anything,  there  was  her  music.  She 
could  give  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  with  that. 


io6  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Ray  had  gone  to  Washington.  They  were  to  have  a 
pretty  cottage  quite  in  the  suburbs,  and  her  father  wanted 
her  opinion  on  a  good  many  things,  it  seemed.  He  was  so 
glad  to  have  his  daughter.  And  Aunt  Violet  had  prom- 
ised to  look  after  her  pleasures. 

"  I  find  I  am  to  be  quite  head  of  the  house,"  she  wrote 
to  Princess.  "  Grandmamma  gives  up  in  a  sweet  old 
lady  way,  and  declares  the  house  is  mine  and  papa's. 
We  have  such  a  nice  middle-aged  woman  and  her  son, 
a  young  lad  of  sixteen  or  so,  who  is  a  little  lame,  but 
very  willing  and  obliging  and  handy  as  a  girl.  Indeed, 
his  mother  treats  him  almost  like  a  girl.  Grandmamma's 
room  and  mine  connect,  and  the  doors  are  open  nearly 
all  the  time.  O,  I  wonder  if  I  am  too  happy  ?  I  have 
learned  so  many  lessons  the  past  year,  and  so  many 
lovely  things  that  seem  to  frame  in  the  days  as  if  they  were 
pictures.  Is  it  because  I  have  found  the  true  work  of 
my  life?" 

Princess  read  the  letter  to  her  mother. 

"It  is  so  curiously  joyous  for  Ray.  After  that  summer 
of  tragedy  I  was  afraid  she  would  never  be  light-hearted 
again." 

"Ray  has  had  many  sad  things  in  her  life." 

"  And  mamma,  I  have  never  had  one  real  care." 

Princess  looked  up  with  a  smile,  her  eyes  soft  and 
shining. 

"  My  darling,  I  hope  you  never  will  have  many.  I 
suppose  very  few  lives  are  entirely  exempt.  I  have  had 
very  few,  and  a  great  deal  of  happiness. ' ' 

Leonard  had  called  his  second  girl  Lyndell  Sherburne, 
and  the  last-born  after  his  favorite  sister. 

"  There  will  be  Dells  and  Millicents  to  the  end  of 
time,"   Lyndell  Carew  said,  in  a  tone  of  bright  amuse- 


ACCEPTANCE.  107 

ment,  but  she  was  glad  to  be  remembered  for  her  own 
self. 

Dell  was  fourteen  now,  almost  as  tall  as  Princess,  which 
was  not  saying  much,  and  growing  so  fast  that  she  would 
soon  overtop  her.  There  had  been  a  governess  for  the 
three  younger  children,  but  she  was  married  in  the  sum- 
mer. Dell  was  too  young  to  be  sent  to  school,  the  boy 
would  go  in  to  Ardmore  and  be  with  other  boys.  He 
was  copying  his  big  brothers  too  much,  his  father  said. 

"But  there  will  be  no  big  brothers  for  a  long  while," 
said  the  little  mother  with  a  sigh.  "  A  week  or  so  at 
Christmas,  and  then  nothing  until  next  summer." 

"  I  am  almost  angry  with  Sherburne.  The  fellow  has 
such  a  fine  logical  mind.  I  was  struck  with  the  way  he 
was  arguing  the  other  evening.  And  he  is  not  a  born 
doctor." 

"But  the  association  with  Doctor  Carew — who  cer- 
tainly was  born  for  the  science  of  medicine — "wistfully 
and  with  a  mother's  hope. 

"  And  Doctor  Underwood."  Then  the  judge  laughed. 
"I'm  not  sure  but  Fanny  has  the  pick  of  husbands  after 
all.  And  medicine  like  theology,  to  be  taken  in  the 
right  way,  needs  enthusiasm,  belief,  purpose.  There  are 
plenty  of  indifferent  clergymen  and  doctors,  but  I  want 
Sherburne  to  stand  at  the  head.  Bert  will  write  books 
some  day  and  lecture  and  pick  out  the  beginnings  of 
things  from  the  time  when  the  earth  was  without  form  and 
void." 

"Remember  that  Sherburne  is  still  very  young,"  said 
the  little  mother  with  tender  persuasiveness. 

"  And  look  back  at  my  own  indolent  self-willed  youth  ! 
But  I  did  one  grand  thing — gave  them  the  mother  they 
have,"  and  he  kissed  his  wife  tenderly. 


108  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"I  am  going  over  for  the  professor,"  Bert  said  the 
next  morning.  "  If  you  and  Dell  can  go  I  will  order 
the  big  carriage." 

"  Yes,  I  have  a  little  errand  at  Aunt  Fanny's.  I  will 
stop  there  while  you  go  over  to  the  station." 

"  It  looks  more  welcome-y,"  and  Bert  laughed.  "  Sher 
won't  be  home  until  dinner  time,  and  papa  has  an 
opinion  to  make  out.  How  he  can  make  it  out  of  whole 
cloth " 

"  You  will  understand  presently." 

"  O,  we  always  have  something  to  go  on,"  returned 
the  boy  loftily. 

Tessy  kissed  the  sweet,  grave  face.  How  strange  to 
see  romances  in  the  far  future  for  her  children,  who  were 
a  crowd  of  babies  only  a  little  while  ago! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

GETTING    SETTLED. 

PROFESSOR  KENNETH  had  gained  a  little  in  flesh 
A  and  changed  mysteriously.  The  near-sightedness 
seemed  at  a  first  glance  the  strongest  link  to  connect  him 
with  the  grave  man  they  had  met  at  Melchias  island.  He 
reached  over  and  took  her  hand.  She  was  very  quiet  in 
aspect  and  said  they  would  all  be  glad  to  see  him,  and 
took  her  seat  behind  her  brother. 

"  I  half  mistook  this  young  lady  for  you,"  he  began. 
"  She  was  such  a  little  girl  a  year  ago." 

"But  I  remembered  him,"  said  Dell,  triumphantly, 
"  though  he  isn't  so  thin.  When  you  lived  with  the 
Esquimos " 

She  stopped  and  turned  very  red. 

• '  Did  you  want  to  know  if  he  ate  blubber  ?  ' '  asked 
Bertram. 

"  No,  I  never  had  the  courage  to  undertake  that, 
though  on  a  few  of  our  outings  we  ran  short  of  food  and 
went  hungry  for  awhile." 

"Was  it  awfully  cold?" 

"Not  as  cold  as  it  will  be  in  winter.  We  did  not  go 
quite  up  to  Hudson's  bay." 

"O,  I  do  wonder  if  I  can  go  somewhere  next  sum- 
mer ?  "  exclaimed  Bert,  longingly.  "  Did  you  ever  want 
to  go  on  a  North  Pole  expedition  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  had  any  longing  that  way  yet.  I  must 
109 


no  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

confess  I  am  not  an  intrepid  explorer.  There  are  so 
many  near-by  things  I  have  not  half  exhausted." 

"I  suppose  Mrs.  Kenneth  is  settled  again,"  Princess 
said  in  the  pause,  while  Bertram  had  wandered  in  mind 
to  the  open  polar  sea. 

"  Yes,  we  have  the  same  apartment.  It  was  all  put  in 
order  and  Mrs.  Drayton  had  secured  a  competent  servant, 
so  we  went  to  living  at  once.  Long  Island  seemed  bet- 
ter than  Maine  for  Mrs.  Kenneth.  She  has  improved 
wonderfully,  although  I  think  Margaret's  happiness  had 
something  to  do  with  it.  For  a  year  or  so  she  had  been 
making  up  her  mind  to  give  up  her  daughter  and  not 
mar  her  loveliest  years.  Then  she  learned  there  were 
other  sweet  willing  girls  in  the  world.  Ruth  is  like 
another  daughter.  I  sometimes  wonder  how  she  will 
part  with  her.     But  then  Margaret  will  be  home." 

It  was  all  planned  out.  Princess  must  learn  to  be  glad 
for  Ruth.  Her  life  had  always  been  rich  and  delightful 
with  love,  Ruth's  dreary  with  covetousness  and  hatred. 

It  was  a  lovely  day  and  the  drive  inspiriting.  The 
professor  noted  the  grand  old  trees,  the  profusion  of  the 
clinging  vines  and  the  flowers.  And  there  was  the  old 
house  he  had  heard  so  much  about,  where  he  was  given  a 
cordial  welcome. 

Of  course  Bertram  took  possession  of  him.  He  had 
so  many  things  to  tell  him,  so  much  to  show  him,  and  he 
felt  somehow  that  he  had  the  first  claim.  Two  or  three 
girl  friends  came  over  to  take  tea  with  Princess  and  learn  a 
little  about  lawn  tennis,  so  she  was  quite  engrossed.  Sher- 
burne returned  with  a  friend,  and  the  evening  was  spent 
out  on  the  wide  porch.  Princess  seemed  to  shelter  her- 
self under  her  mother's  wing,  had  she  some  vague  pre- 
sentiment, the  mother  wondered. 


GETTING  SETTLED.  in 

She  settled  it  for  herself  that  night.  The  wide  full- 
moon  made  a  silver  shower  in  her  room.  Sometimes  she 
shut  it  out ;  to-night  she  was  not  sleepy  and  she  liked 
the  company.  It  was  almost  like  the  finest  human  sym- 
pathy. 

It  was  not  at  all  unlikely  that  many  girls  had  an  ideal 
in  youth  and  were  strongly  attracted.  Mamma  said  she 
had  never  cared  for  any  one  until  papa  came.  But  he 
was  such  a  handsome  young  man,  and  he  was  Auntie  Dell's 
dearest  friend.  Aunt  Fanny  laughed  about  trying  on 
loves,  and  papa  said  Aunt  Fanny  had  been  a  sad  flirt,  but 
she  did  love  Doctor  Underwood,  and  Princess  thought 
him  very  fascinating,  though  he  teased  a  good  deal. 

And  she  was  still  so  young.  There  would  be  a  great 
deal  to  do  with  her  life.  She  could  wait  the  few  years 
until  some  one  came  to  claim  it  and  ask  her  to  make  a 
new  home  with  him.  She  would  not  even  dream  of  a 
"might  have  been";  it  would  not  be  fair  to  the  man 
who  would  come  presently,  to  remember  she  had  allowed 
herself  to  dream  vain  and  envious  dreams.  She  must 
keep  a  pure  white  soul  until  that  day. 

They  were  over  to  Beaumanoir  at  luncheon  the  next 
day  and  the  professor  was  very  much  interested  in  the 
charming  old  people  who  were  living  their  young  life  over 
in  their  children  and  their  children's  children.  Then 
Doctor  Underwood  dropped  in  and  insisted  they  should 
take  supper  with  him.  These  people  were  so  delightfully 
hospitable.  And  to-morrow  he  must  visit  the  hospital, 
which  was  really  a  flourishing  institution. 

Professor  Kenneth  had  been  to  the  northward  and 
westward,  and  gone  down  the  Mississippi,  but  this  was  a 
new  region  to  him,  and  everything  in  the  natural  world 
appealed  to  him.     The  manliness  of  Judge  Beaumanoir 


U2  THE  HEIR   OE  SHERBURNE. 

attracted  him  as  well,  and  Sherburne's  youth  and  bright- 
ness was  like  the  sunshine  itself.  How  proud  a  man 
must  be  of  such  a  family  !  New  instincts  and  hopes 
stirred  his  very  soul.  Science  was  not  all.  It  was  a 
grand  thing  to  be  filled  with  the  breath  of  human  life. 

He  had  spent  the  four  days  of  his  delightful  stay,  and 
on  the  last  night  it  was  unsatisfactory  to  him.  Had  he 
been  so  engrossed  with  books  and  studies  and  young  men 
that  the  other  part  of  life,  the  art  of  winning  love  had 
entirely  escaped  him  ?  Was  he  older  than  his  years  ?  O, 
how  had  he  the  temerity  to  dream  of  this  young  girl !  They 
had  seemed  to  come  very  near  on  the  old  island  where 
they  first  met ;  even  a  few  months  ago  the  distance  had 
not  appeared  impassable,  but  now — what  kept  her  so 
far  off? 

And  she  was  still  so  utterly  sweet  and  lovely.  Such  a 
winsome  daughter,  such  a  tender,  ready  sister  with  in- 
finite patience  and  consideration.  But  he  was  afraid  now 
that  he  had  not  the  divine  art  of  winning  love.  What  if  he 
should  be  called  upon  to  lay  aside  the  fascinating  dream 
and  confine  himself  to  science  all  the  rest  of  his  life  !  O, 
he  could  not  without  a  bitter  disappointment.  The  long- 
ing had  entered  his  life,  and  he  did  not  want  to  thrust 
it  out. 

Yet — he  was  older  than  his  years — older  in  a  woman's 
sight,  perhaps.  He  could  be  young  with  boys.  Why  he 
had  learned  to  be  young  with  all  that  crowd  of  merry 
boys  and  girls  on  Melchias  island. 

Had  he  any  right  to  take  this  beautiful  girl  life  out  of 
the  garden  of  promise,  where  it  could  bloom  abundantly 
and  bear  choice  fruit,  and  shut  it  in  a  narrow  place  ?  He 
had  not  thought  of  that  before.     Yes — it  was  selfish. 

If  he  had  known  girls  and  women  better,  he  would 


GETTING  SETTLED.  113 

have  understood  that  love  could  transfigure  any  life  when 
it  was  elected  king.  But  he  had  never  speculated  upon 
it,  and  now  he  stood  quite  dismayed  at  his  own  temerity, 
at  his  alluring  dream.  Even  Mrs.  Kenneth  had  said 
months  ago — "  I  don't  see  how  you  dared  !  "  They  had 
not  reverted  to  it  since. 

Yet  her  mother  surely  had  not  thought  it  such  an  im- 
possible thing  or  beyond  the  bounds  of  reason.  Only 
Princess  had  shrunk  from  any  near  approach  on  his  part ; 
she  seemed  to  evade  every  opportunity  of  being  alone 
with  him ;  she  had  answered  almost  indifferently  when 
he  suggested  she  should  come  up  to  New  York  with  her 
brothers.  There  had  been  no  eager  talk  about  knowledge 
and  improvement  and  all  the  world's  richness  standing 
ready  to  be  gathered  by  longing  hands.  She  was  the 
sweet,  winsome  daughter  and  sister,  but  not  even  inspired 
with  the  old  friendliness. 

Some  other  fond  eyes  had  been  watching  Princess  with 
trembling,  half-jealous  scrutiny.  The  dainty  reticence 
and  evasion  of  anything  like  a  tete-a-tcte,  the  quiet  aspect 
of  the  girl  surprised  her  mother.  Was  it  that  she  was  too 
noble,  too  innately  wise  to  foster  a  regard  that  could  come 
to  nothing  ?  Was  she  so  utterly  fancy  free  ?  And  why 
had  she  given  up  the  college  project  so  easily  ? 

Then  Tessy  recalled  the  fact  that  she  and  Cousin  Ned 
Beaumanoir  had  seemed  wonderfully  attracted  toward 
each  other.  Would  that  ripen  into  something  deeper? 
She  sincerely  hoped  not,  though  she  liked  Ned  very 
much.  Was  it  giving  Princess  that  delicate  self-appro- 
priation that  comes  with  the  first  dawning  of  preference 
to  every  one  but  the  coquette  ?  For  it  was  plain  to  the 
mother. 

The  luggage  was  all  ready  in  the  hall.     Bert  was  im- 


ii4  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

portant.  Sherburne  serene  as  befitted  a  young  man  to 
whom  traveling  was  no  rarity  and  who  had  gone  from 
home  on  longer  journeys.  The  judge  was  to  bear  them 
company  as  far  as  Washington.  The  breakfast  was  early, 
but  Princess  and  her  mother  graced  it. 

The  children  came  down  and  were  running  to  and  fro 
with  their  good-bye  kisses.  Eric  Kenneth  envied  the  re- 
cipients. How  delightful  to  be  set  in  a  large  family  !  He 
was  going  away  with  a  heavy  heart. 

"  These  few  days  have  been  a  great  enjoyment  to  me," 
he  said,  taking  Mrs.  Beaumanoir's  hand.  "You  need 
not  fear  but  that  I  will  look  after  Bertram  quite  as  if  he 
were  a  younger  brother.  And  if  I  have  been  foolish  to 
hope  that  so  sweet  a  flower  might  bloom  for  me,  it  has  at 
least  shed  a  fragrance  on  my  life  that  I  shall  not  willingly 
let  die  out.  I  shall  even  cherish  the  mistake,  and  keep 
her  in  my  heart  until  some  worthier  man  finds  the  royal 
road  to  hers." 

It  was  worth  the  confession  to  have  the  sweet  mother 
look  of  sympathy  that  softened  her  eyes  like  a  mist  of 
tears. 

"  You  take  my  sincere  regard  with  you,"  she  replied, 
when  she  found  her  voice. 

Then  the  carriage  rolled  away.  She  placed  her  arm 
about  her  daughter's  neck,  but  Princess  stood  rather  stiff, 
still  looking  out  on  the  drive. 

"  How  much  we  shall  miss  them  !  "  but  the  girl's  voice 
had  a  constrained  sound. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  mother,  and  they  walked  within, 
Princess  distant  instead  of  desiring  sympathy. 

Two  hours  later  Sam  came  bark  with  the  mail. 

Mrs.  Beaumanoir  glanced  over  her  letters.  A  long 
one  from  Lyndell  Carew,  one  from  her  own  sister,  Den- 


GETTING  SETTLED.  115 

sie,  a  happy  wife  and  mother,  some  invitations,  and  one 
she  read  with  a  sense  of  disappointment. 

"Just  listen,  Princess,"  she  exclaimed.  "Aunt  Milly's 
nice  girl  has  had  all  her  plans  changed.  Her  mother  is 
going  to  marry — is  married  now,  to  an  old  friend  who 
is  to  take  them  both  out  to  a  Texas  ranch.  Her  mother 
would  not  go  without  her.  But  what  are  we  to  do  for  a 
governess  ?  I  was  depending  on  her.  I  wonder  if  Aunt 
Milly  knows?" 

"  I  dare  say  she  is  hunting  up  some  one  else  to  make 
good  the  defection.  We  cannot  quite  blame  the  girl.  I 
have  a  fancy  I  should  try  to  follow  you." 

Princess  gave  a  soft  laugh  as  she  glanced  up. 

"Ono,  I  do  not  blame  her.  The  man,  the  lover," 
with  a  half  smile,  "came  on  quite  unexpectedly." 

"  I  shall  have  to  play  governess  awhile.  Why  not  all 
the  winter,  mamma?  It  will  keep  me  from  getting 
rusty." 

"  But  you  are  to  go  to  Washington  and  have  a  season 
with  Aunt  Violet.  And  they  will  want  you  in  New  York. 
Princess,  you  are  to  be  a  young  lady  and  have  a  good 
time  with  the  other  girls." 

"  Why  not  a  good  time  at  home  ?  " 

She  glanced  up  to  meet  her  mother's  eyes,  but  some 
half  enquiry  in  them  caused  hers  to  waver  and  droop. 

They  went  about  the  day's  occupations.  Princess  had 
been  teaching  her  sisters  for  the  last  fortnight. 

They  sauntered  upstairs  now  to  the  little  study  room. 
The  house  was  very  quiet.  After  an  hour  the  children 
were  dismissed  for  a  run.  She  had  a  letter  to  write  to 
Kitty  Saxon,  and  before  it  was  finished  the  lessons  began 
again. 

There  were  but  four  of  them  to  lunch.     Aunt  Fanny 


n6  THE  HEIR   OE  SHERBURNE. 

came  over  to  take  Dell  and  Milly  out  with  her  two  little 
girls  and  keep  them  to  tea. 

"  The  doctor  liked  your  friend  so  much,"  said  Fanny. 
1 '  He  thinks  Bertram  is  fortunate  to  be  under  his  care.  And 
I  suppose  he  will  keep  a  kind  of  steady  eye  over  Sher- 
burne, who  seems  very  fond  of  fun  and  frolic,  and  if  it 
didn't  sound  so  wretched  I  should  say  females,  for  the 
sake  of  the  alliteration.  Half  the  girls  around  here  are 
in  love  with  him.  It  is  fortunate  for  his  peace  of  mind 
that  he  has  to  get  down  to  real  study." 

Tessy  smiled,  but  did  not  reply.  The  children  ran 
out  eagerly  and  called  to  the  two  cousins.  Fanny  chat- 
tered a  few  moments  longer  and  then  went  on  with  her 
drive.  She  would  have  gone  to  the  moon  if  she  could, 
for  her  children,  and  yet  they  were  not  spoiled  enough 
to  be  a  trial. 

It  was  still  warm,  and  Tessy  suggested  they  should 
take  their  sewing  out  on  the  porch.  Princess  was  em- 
broidering some  exquisite  wild  roses. 

How  quiet  they  were  !  Princess  had  no  tender  confi- 
dence for  her  mother,  no  sorrow  that  her  soft  tones  could 
heal.  But  she  knew  she  had  given  something  out  of  her 
life,  just  as  one  cuts  off  the  first  bud  of  the  rose.  The 
others  might  be  larger  and  richer  for  it,  but  no  one  could 
ever  know  what  sweetness  was  infolded  in  the  bud. 

Some  of  the  young  people  came  over  in  the  evening, 
and  they  had  music  and  talking ;  but  the  chief  plaint 
was  that  Sherburne  was  gone.  They  should  miss  him  so 
everywhere.  Why  couldn't  he  stay  and  study  with  Doc- 
tor Underwood  ? 

"There  would  be  the  lectures.  And  there  was  so 
much  going  on  in  the  city." 

Princess  kissed  her  mother  good-night  and  went  to  her 


GETTING  SETTLED.  117 

room.  The  two  candles  on  her  table  were  lighted,  the 
curtains  drawn.  It  was  essentially  a  girl's  room.  She 
took  up  her  Imitation  of  Christ. 

"Nothing  is  sweeter  than  love,  nothing  stronger,  noth- 
ing higher,  nothing  wider,  nothing  fuller  or  better  in 
heaven  or  earth." 

The  supreme  comfort  was  that  there  were  many  kinds 
of  love.     And  if  one  gave  away  this  precious  thing  ! 

The  boys  went  straight  to  Aunt  Lyndell's;  Mr.  Ken- 
neth to  his  sister's.  The  evening  was  a  little  cool  and 
there  was  a  log  fire  in  the  sitting-room,  a  real  cheerful 
blaze ;  and  the  lamp  lighted  under  the  kettle  to  make 
him  a  cup  of  tea.  He  was  being  spoiled.  And  though 
they  sat  there  past  midnight  talking  of  the  enjoyable 
Virginian  home  and  the  people  he  had  met,  he  had  no 
sweet  hope  to  pour  into  her  ear.  She  was  too  delicate  to 
question  him.     Had  it  all  come  to  naught  ? 

But  work  began  in  earnest  now.  Bertram  was  eager 
for  it.     Sherburne  was  at  least  interested. 

Lyndell  was  engrossed  in  getting  acquainted  with  the 
new  house,  she  told  her  husband,  and  the  big  children. 
They  seemed  to  have  kept  mysteriously  small  in  the  old 
house,  and  now  the  twins  were  sixteen.  Millicent,  a  fair, 
rather  shy,  gentle  girl,  with  soft  dark  eyes  more  like  her 
godmother's  than  her  own  mother's,  Randolph,  for  though 
he  had  his  father's  name  also,  they  never  called  him  by  it, 
but  left  it  exclusively  for  Leonard's  son.  He  was  a  bright, 
laughing,  heedless  young  fellow,  who  considered  athletics 
the  great  thing  of  life  at  this  juncture.  He  could  study, 
but  he  was  not  fond  of  it,  but  he  adored  his  father  if  he 
did  not  take  his  counsels  to  heart.  Honor,  the  second 
girl,  was  like  her  mother,  prettier  than  Dell  had  been  in 
childhood,  a  merry,  charming  girl,  not  quite  fourteen, 


n8  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

but  almost  as  tall  as  Millicent.  Between  Reese  and  Flor- 
ence there  had  been  several  years,  and  she  was  rather 
small  of  her  age. 

The  house  had  been  built  to  grow  in,  and  now  sud- 
denly they  had  grown.  What  with  the  two  additions,  it 
seemed  to  abound  in  boys.  The  third  floor  was  devoted 
to  them,  even  Reese  considered  himself  manly  enough 
not  to  have  his  mother  watch  over  him,  though  he  was  a 
little  homesick  at  first,  missing  her  mysterious  mother 
ministrations.  He  had  grown  quite  accustomed  to  it  on 
the  yacht,  but  it  did  not  seem  altogether  the  thing  at 
home.     But  then  he  was  such  a  big  boy  ! 

On  one  side  of  the  hall  the  doctor  had  an  office  and 
study,  a  commodious  room  that  really  showed  some 
empty  book  shelves.  There  was  a  drawing-room  large 
enough  for  a  considerable  company,  a  music-room  and 
conservatory. 

Aunt  Neale  had  grown  very  feeble  with  the  advancing 
years,  but  the  doctor  seemed  robust  enough  to  round  out 
a  century.  They  had  their  two  rooms  over  the  study 
and  office,  the  other  side  being  devoted  to  Dell  and  the 
girls,  with  room  for  a  girl  guest  when  the  cousins  came. 

"It  is  like  beginning  a  new  life,"  said  Dell,  with  a 
half  sigh.  "O,  I  wonder  if  there  can  be  sixteen  years 
of  pleasure  and  happiness  and  no  sorrow  to  mar,  like  the 
sixteen  years  that  have  past.  It  really  seems  as  if  no 
one  had  had  any  serious  misfortunes,  except  Cousin 
Archie.  But  Ray  is  such  a  sweet  affectionate  girl,  he  will 
take  great  pleasure  with  her." 

"We  have  all  been  wonderfully  blest.  Like  Job,  we 
have  had  sons  and  daughters,  and  prosperity,  and 
honors,"  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  O,  I  wish  you  had  not  quoted  Job." 


GETTING  SETTLED.  119 

"There  is  no  room  for  superstition.  And  Leonard 
has  been  quite  as  fortunate  as  we.  And  Paul  Amory. 
Do  not  let  us  spoil  our  living  and  our  new  home  by 
dreading  disaster." 

"There  will  not  be  much  time  with  two  new  boys. 
Bertram  is  such  a  favorite  of  mine.  I  hope  he  will  in- 
spire Randolph.     Sherburne  is  charming,  but l* 

"Well,  but  what?" 

"  I  have  a  feeling  that  he  is — rather  uncertain.  O, 
suppose  he  should  follow  in  Cousin  Gilbert's  early 
steps  !  " 

"  Nonsense  !  do  not  think  of  such  a  thing  !  He  sug- 
gests his  own  father  to  me.  And  though  Len  did  not 
have  the  noblest  beginning  he  has  made  a  really  grand 
man.  Few  have  his  high  integrity,  his  broad  scope  of 
thought,  and  he  in  turn  has  many  of  his  father's  traits." 

"  Many  of  Aunt  Laura's  as  well.  Bertram,  we  shall 
begin  to  reckon  on  heredity,"  and  the  half  smile  curved 
her  lips  with  a  piquant  grace. 

"I  have  always  reckoned  on  it  in  a  way.  I  have 
never  believed  God  created  a  man  for  some  particular 
sin  or  weakness,  and  gave  him  no  corresponding  grace 
or  strength.  We  swing  too  much  to  the  side  of  fatalism, 
or  pantheism,"  and  a  little  dent  of  protest  came  between 
his  brows.  "  I  object  to  a  God  being  in  everything,  and 
you  having  authority  over  the  God,  when  you  do  not 
even  govern  yourself." 

Lyndell  was  reflecting.  She  remembered  when  she 
had  been  dipping  into  the  strange  knowledges  of  the 
world  and  following  the  "  Lo  here,"  and  the  "  Lo 
there:  "  a  restless  young  woman,  with  the  idea  that  she 
must  keep  pace  with  her  husband's  intellectuality.  That 
was  before  the  babies  came.     And  she  was  glad  now  she 


120  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

had  not  been  a  weak  and  silly  mother.  True,  the  twins 
had  been  so  divided  up  between  their  grandparents,  she 
stepping  tenderly  aside  that  they  might  have  an  unquali- 
fied joy,  but  since  then  they  had  been  all  hers.  She  had 
not  lost  interest  in  the  world's  progress.  And  now  that 
there  were  so  many  on  the  threshold  of  life,  she  was  very 
thankful. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  her  husband  asked, 
noting  the  changes  in  her  face.  He  was  fond  of  study- 
ing it.  "  Dell,  if  these  boys  are  to  add  a  big  burthen  to 
your  life,  I  shall  be  sorry  I  consented." 

"When  the  burthen  gets  too  heavy  we  can  shift  it  on 
Millicent.  She  would  have  taken  both  boys.  Only  I 
wanted  Bert.  He  is  so  wise  and  steady  and  studious. 
And  Randolph " 

"Don't  set  him  Bert  for  a  pattern.  If  there  is  any- 
thing the  average  boy  hates,  it  is  being  desired  to  look 
up  to  a  boy  of  his  own  age.  I  am  afraid  Randolph  will 
never  be  an  enthusiastic  student." 

"O,"  cried  Dell,  disappointedly. 

"My  dear  wife,  can  we  reasonably  expect  all  the  'vir- 
tues and  graces  and  wisdom  in  our  eldest  son  ?  I  know 
father  counts  on  his  carrying  down  the  honors  of  medi- 
cine. I  have  discovered  already  that  eager  as  he  is  for 
all  kinds  of  bodily  feats,  he  shrinks  from  physical  pain, 
and  we  all  remember,  as  a  little  boy,  wild  and  rough  as 
he  was  at  times,  he  never  tormented  a  cat  or  a  dog." 

"  But  Aunt  Neale  was  so  tender.  And  you  know  you 
were  always  strict  on  the  question  of  cruelty." 

"Yes.  A  doctor  either  gets  hardened,  or  tries  in 
every  way  to  lessen  physical  pain.  1  shall  have  to  con- 
fess that  I  have  never  yet  subscribed  entirely  to  the  theory 
of  the  divine  mission  of  pain.     It  is  true  I  have  known 


GETTING  SETTLED.  121 

some  great  sufferers  who  bore  everything  with  an  almost 
divine  resignation,  but  I  have  known  about  ten  for  the 
one  who  made  their  family  or  their  wives  suffer  vicar- 
iously. Then  as  to  whether  God  sends  these  things  as 
the  older  people  were  trained  to  believe " 

"O  Bertram  !  Shall  we  accept  good  at  the  hands  of 
God  and  not  ill?" 

"  Half,  nay,  more  than  that  of  the  world's  ills  come 
from  what  the  poet  terms  'man's  inhumanity.'  Hun- 
dreds of  accidents  could  be  prevented  by  a  little  careful- 
ness, a  little  expenditure  of  money  at  the  right  time.  We 
huddle  people  in  noisome  holes  where  the  air  is  foul,  the 
light  scant,  each  one  with  his  share  of  disease,  and  make 
a  propagating  house.  Then  we  take  them  out  and  fill 
our  beautiful  hospitals  where  it  is  almost  heaven  itself, 
and  do  our  best  to  cure  them,  spend  our  time  and  energy 
and  money,  and  return  them  to  the  same  vile  dens.  Do 
you  suppose  God  is  answerable  for  all  our  sins  and  blun- 
ders that  we  know  are  such,  and  yet  will  not  take  the 
pains  to  remedy?  My  dear,  I  am  wasting  my  lecture 
knowledge  on  you  when  you  know  it  all  of  yourself.  And 
we  have  wandered  from  the  boy.  Let  him  follow  the 
bent  of  his  own  mind  for  two  years  more,  and  then  de- 
cide. There  may  be  another  lad  to  uphold  family  digni- 
ties." 

"O  the  little  children  !  I  have  taken  so  much  pleas- 
ure in  them  !  "  Dell's  tone  was  a  cry  of  longing  regret. 
"  We  have  been  so  happy.  Shall  we  leave  the  joy  in  the 
old  house  and  begin  with  the  cares  here?  " 

Bertram  put  his  arm  around  her  and  drew  her  down  to 
his  shoulder,  kissed  the  face  that  had  grown  nobler  and 
sweeter  with  the  years,  and  yet  held  the  charm  of  "  his 
father's  little  girl."     There  was  an  infinite  comfort  in  the 


122  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

softness  that  irradiated  his  face  like  the  sun  half  veiled, 
half  peering  through  drifts  that  were  hardly  clouds. 

"My  dear,  as  I  remember  we  were  not  all  wisdom 
ourselves  in  those  early  years."  Then  the  smile  came 
through  and  disclosed  the  tender  lines  the  years  had 
brought.  "We  made  some  mistakes.  '  The  world  was 
too  much  with  me  late  and  soon,'  and  fame  held  her  daz- 
zling lure  before  my  eyes.  We  skirted  close  to  the  thin 
place.  It  was  a  useful  lesson.  It  has  made  me  more 
considerate  of  the  mistakes  of  others,  and  some  absolute 
sins  creep  in  from  a  mistake.  So  we  will  not  expect 
these  young  people  to  be  alive  with  wisdom,  and  have  it 
ooze  out  at  every  pore.  Youth  is  so  charming.  We  will 
do  our  best  for  them,  and  trust  to  a  higher  power.  And 
if  they  do  not  fall  in  with  our  ideas  we  must  see  what 
virtue  there  is  in  theirs." 

"  But  you  fulfilled  your  father's  hopes,"  she  said. 

"Life  was  so  simple  in  that  pretty  country  place 
among  people  of  refinement  and  education.  And  I  was 
my  father's  companion  from  babyhood.  I  inherited  a 
gift  for  surgery.  My  father  never  tried  vain  experiments. 
His  theory  was  to  be  useful  to  his  fellow-creatures.  You 
see  there  was  such  a  little  variety.  And  Millicent  was 
the  lovely  girl  friend  of  us  all.  Randolph  has  more  girl 
friends  to-day  than  I  had  in  all  my  young  life.  Milly 
and  Tessy  and  you.     Ah,  they  were  delightful  times." 

"  And  I  used  to  think — Tessy  was  so  restful.  Why 
did  you  not " 

"  Because  I  fell  in  love  with  you.  Because  you  were 
father's  girl.  It  did  trouble  me  at  first  because  you  had 
so  much  money." 

"And  you  have  not  allowed  me  to  spend  it !  "  in  a 
half-complaining  tone. 


GETTING  SETTLED.  123 

"  No,  not  on  me.  Any  man  who  takes  a  woman's 
life  and  heart  and  soul,  ought  to  care  for  the  garden  in 
which  he  sets  it.  But  I  certainly  do  not  restrict  you  at 
present.  Only — do  not  let  the  children  get  into  the  way 
of  thinking  that  money  is  the  chief  good." 

Yes,  she  had  her  own  way  largely  now.  She  did  want 
the  children  to  grow  up  in  a  refined  and  beautiful  home. 
Sherburne  had  elected  this  for  his  home  as  well,  and  then 
Bert  would  not  be  crowded  out.  Leonard  and  Tessy 
were  more  than  pleased  with  the  arrangement.  Mrs. 
Kenneth  was  not  far  away,  the  Draytons  a  little  farther. 
And  the  Mallorys  had  come  up  town.  Miss  Phillipa 
had  slipped  quietly  out  of  life,  and  the  elder  Mr.  Mal- 
lory  was  taking  things  easy,  delighted  with  his  grand- 
children, and  very  much  in  love  with  his  son's  bright,  af- 
fectionate, joyous  wife. 

Adrian  Mallory  said — "We  must  have  that  young 
Sherburne  in  now  and  then.  All  you  mothers  will  have 
to  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  him,  there  are  so  many  charm- 
ers abroad." 

"As  if  a  young  man  couldn't  take  care  of  himself," 
retorted  Nora. 

Adrian  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  lifted  his  eyebrows, 
suggestively. 

"  He  is  a  handsome  fellow,  an  attractive  one,  as  well. 
Isn't  medicine  a  dangerous  profession  for  him  ?  Women 
have  a  weak  spot  for  their  doctor  and  their  clergyman." 

"Yes,"  returned  Nora,  laughingly.  "  We  have  all  set 
our  affections  on  Uncle  Bertram.  And  Auntie  Dell  never 
gets  jealous.  She  must  have  been  born  for  a  doctor's 
wife." 

Perhaps  she  had  been  born  for  Bertram  Carew's  wife. 
Sometimes  Dell  remembered  when  she   was  one  of  the 


i24  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Murray  children  and  went  to  school  with  them,  ran  and 
played  and  whooped  and  shouted  and  was  brimming 
over  with  life.  Yes,  childhood  was  gladder  and  freer  and 
richer  then.  And  there  was  a  young  medical  student 
pushing  up  to  the  front  ranks  that  his  father  might  rejoice 
in  his  joy.  Neither  knew  about  the  other.  It  had  taken 
Sherburne  House  and  no  end  of  curious  events  to  bring 
them  together,  and  here  they  were  in  the  grand  old  city 
with  all  those  years  lying  behind  them,  and  new  duties 
changing  every  year  ahead  of  them. 

She  had  taken  her  way  about  the  new  house.  Not  but 
what  treasures  of  art  and  beauty  had  been  added  from 
time  to  time,  but  the  babies  in  her  own  house  and  the 
babies  elsewhere,  as  tenderly  loved,  as  sweet  and  ador- 
able, and  the  others  who  never  knew  what  real  mother 
love  was  like,  some  times  crowded  out  the  finer  living,  such 
as  Millicent  and  Mr.  Drayton  made.  But  she  never 
envied  them,  for  was  not  Doctor  Carew  the  one  lover  of 
her  life. 

Sometimes,  and  it  came  to  her  quite  forcibly  just  now, 
she  had  wondered  how  she  would  do  when  the  children 
were  growing  up,  what  plans  she  would  have,  how  it 
would  seem  to  be  the  mother  of  tall  sons  and  daughters, 
who  were  to  be  placed  in  the  world.  And  the  time  had 
come. 

She  had  a  feeling  ever  since  her  twin  boy  had  smiled 
out  on  the  world,  that  he  should  be  a  physician.  He  had 
his  father's  name  and  his  grandfather's,  and  he  would 
naturally  follow  in  their  footsteps.  A  little  persuasion  on 
his  father's  part  might  settle  his  aims  in  these  plastic 
years.  She  wanted  Bertram  to  have  the  sympathetic 
delight  and  companionship  his  father  had  taken  with  his 
son.       She    understood   Leonard's   disappointment,   and 


GETTING  SETTLED.  125 

would  fain  have  persuaded  Sherburne  to  the  other  way  of 
thinking. 

Then  she  recalled  the  crossed  purposes  of  her  own 
childhood.  No,  she  would  not  interfere.  They  should 
have  this  lovely  home  and  their  mother's  affection  to  take 
out  with  them  in  the  big  world,  whither  they  must  all  go. 
Since  poverty  would  never  narrow  or  thwart  their  lives, 
mistaken  endeavor  should  not  do  it. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  TOUCH  OF  NATURE. 

"lyC70RK  began  in  real  earnest  for  everybody  after  the 
v  "  long  summer  holiday.  Mrs.  Townsend  settled 
herself  next  door  to  Mrs.  Kenneth,  to  keep  house  and  see 
what  it  was  like.  It  was  furnished,  but  she  had  some  choice 
belongings  that  she  never  relinquished,  and  that  gave  her 
an  at-home  feeling.  And  she  was  glad  to  have  Mrs. 
Kenneth  for  a  neighbor. 

"I  think  there  must  have  been  the  pick  of  the  world 
in  that  school  of  Mrs.  St.  John's,"  she  said  to  Miss 
Maurice.  "  What  a  charming  little  body  that  Miss  En- 
sign is  !  And  there  were  all  the  other  girls.  I  thought 
them  so  engaging  that  day  of  the  luncheon.  I  am  going 
to  have  some  social  life  this  winter.  I  sometimes  think 
I  will  marry  again  just  for  the  sake  of  having  a  real 
home.  I  could  travel  about  a  little  and  come  back. 
But  then  you  would  want  some  other  woman  who  just 
suited  you,"  reflectively. 

"Do  husbands  just  suit  you?"  asked  Miss  Maurice, 
archly,  a  half  smile  making  doubting  lines  around  her 
lips. 

"You  are  very  much  in  love  when  you  first  marry, 
unless  you  marry  for  money,  and  a  woman  generally 
thinks  her  lover  perfection.  It  is  quite  a  while  before 
she  gets  disenchanted,  and  then  the  step  is  irrevocable. 
So  if  you  want  to  be  happy,  pick  out  the  best  traits  he 
possesses  and  adore  them." 

126 


A  TOUCH  OF  NATURE.  127 

Gertie  would  have  liked  to  ask  whether  Mrs.  Town- 
send  had  been  disenchanted.  Her  husband  had  lived 
five  years.  But  the  Sherburne  people  were  all  lovers 
still. 

"If  you  were  five  and  thirty  I  should  ask  you  to  cast 
in  your  life  with  me,  only  I  should  like  you  to  be  as 
young  as  you  are  now.  I  am  fond  of  youth,  then  I  am 
fond  of  old  age.  It  is  the  between  times  that  come  hard 
on  a  woman." 

The  between  times  would  not  need  to  affect  her  much, 
Gertrude  thought.  She  had  abundant  charms,  fresh 
complexion,  brilliant  and  moving  eyes,  when  she  talked 
in  real  earnest,  fine  conversational  talent  and  a  kind  of 
radiant  exuberance  that  never  became  effusive  or  tiresome. 
She  could  marry  again  easily. 

"And  thirty-five  is  the  time  a  woman  gives  up  what- 
ever dreams  she  may  have  had?"  ventured  the  girl, 
inquiringly. 

"  At  thirty  she  has  a  little  fear  the  right  man  will  not 
come  along,  and  questions  whether  it  may  not  be  better 
to  marry  the  wrong  one.  Five  years  later  she  has  ceased 
to  discuss  the  wrong  man  with  herself  or  married  him." 

Gertie  laughed  a  little. 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  young  people.  I  should  have  been 
mother  of  a  family.  Then,  as  you  have  learned  by  this 
time,  I  am  also  fond  of  social  life.  I  think  I  will  begin 
by  receptions.  Two  this  month,  two  next.  Let  us  make 
out  a  list,  and  see  how  many  acquaintances  we  own.  I 
will  be  first  in  the  field." 

Gertrude  sat  down  at  her  desk.  They  had  a  pretty 
recess-room  fitted  up  as  a  sort  of  library. 

"Some  of  these  people  are  not  in  the  city  now,  but 
will  be  later  on.     And  the  gentlemen  will  be  glad  of  a 


128  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

little  entertainment,  especially  the  newspaper  men.  And 
put  down  that  young  Beaumanoir." 

Mr.  Murray's  name  was  among  the  newspaper  men. 
Gertrude  had  not  seen  him  or  Sherburne  since  her  return 
to  the  city. 

"  Now  I  must  consider  who  will  pour  tea  and  coffee 
and  chocolate.     You  can  have  your  choice." 

"Coffee,"  replied  Miss  Maurice,  with  admirable 
promptness. 

"  There  is  that  Miss  Wyman  who  really  has  a  poetical 
gift  and  is  coming  up  in  the  magazines.  She  shall  have 
the  chocolate.  And  a  married  woman  to  pour  the  tea. 
I  shall  ask  Mrs.  Drayton  to  help  me  receive.  Now  write 
it  out  for  the  printers  and  send  it  off.  And  men  say 
women  are  not  expeditious  !  " 

There  was  nothing  on  hand  that  evening  and  Gertrude 
went  in  to  Mrs.  Kenneth's.  The  two  Beaumanoirs  were 
there,  and  Sherburne  evinced  his  pleasure  at  once.  They 
had  several  songs,  Gertrude  playing  accompaniments. 

Ruth  left  them  alone  at  the  piano,  presently. 

"Why  did  you  not  allow  me  to  come?"  Sherburne 
asked,  abruptly.  "  I  began  to  think  I  should  never  find 
a  way  to  see  you." 

"It  was  not  convenient  in  the  summer — I  suppose 
that  is  what  you  refer  to?  "  briefly. 

"  Yes.     Are  you  going  to  stay  in  the  city  ?  " 

"I  expect  to— through  the  winter." 

He  nodded  approvingly. 

"  May  I  come  and  call  upon  you  ?  " 

"  You  will  have  a  card  for  the  receptions,"  she  said. 

"  To  begin  with  the  New  Year?  " 

"Next  week."  There  was  an  amused  smile  playing 
about  her  lips,  and  an  odd  light  in  her  eyes. 


A  TOUCH  OF  NATURE.  129 

"  I  shall  be  there.     You  are  sure  you  are  not " 


He  glanced  into  her  eyes  so  eagerly  that  she  flushed. 

"  I  should  not  jest  in  that  fashion." 

Bertram  had  been  inspecting  some  new  specimens  with 
the  professor.     Now  he  rose  and  came  forward. 

"Miss  Maurice,  won't  you  sing  some  of  those  jolly 
songs  we  had  at  Melchias  ?  Mrs.  Kenneth,  will  they  be 
too  noisy?  We  won't  roar  them  out  as  we  did  on  the 
beach.  What  fun  we  did  have  !  I  should  like  to  go  to 
Melchias  again." 

"  I  do  not  believe  I  shall  mind  the  noise.  I  never  get 
tired  of  hearing  about  the  island." 

"Uncle  Con  is  an  awfully  jolly  fellow,"  declared 
Sherburne.  "  How  I  did  envy  you  all.  I  should  have 
turned  green  if  the  boys  had  not  come  out." 

The  songs  were  merry  enough.  One  was  a  part  song 
between  a  mermaid  and  a  sailor.  Bertram  had  a  good 
deal  of  voice  yet,  and  took  the  sailor's  part,  a  poor  sailor 
who  was  at  last  inveigled  under  the  green  sea  waves  by 
the  mermaid  with  golden  hair.  And  somehow  he  quite' 
crowded  Sherburne  out  with  his  prior  claim. 

Ten  o'clock  was  to  be  ordinary  hours  at  Doctor  Ca- 
rew's.     Bertram  was  first  to  remember. 

"And  I  have  stayed  unconsciously,"  declared  Ger- 
trude. "  Dear  Mrs.  Kenneth,  have  we  set  you  wild  with 
our  youthful  folly?" 

"  I  have  enjoyed  it  very  much.     Come  in  often." 

They  both  escorted  Miss  Maurice  to  the  next  door 
stoop,  but  Sherburne  insisted  upon  using  her  latchkey. 

"O,"  said  Mrs.  Townsend,  "you  are  ten  minutes  too 
late.  Mr.  Murray  has  been  here  the  last  hour.  He  has 
been  off  somewhere  to  a  convention  and  just  returned 
this  morning." 


130  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"And  his  two  nephews  were  in  Mrs.  Kenneth's." 

The  girlishness  had  not  all  gone  out  of  her  face  yet. 
She  looked  sixteen.  Mrs.  Townsend  studied  her  with  a 
new  interest. 

The  first  reception  was  a  brilliant  success.  Mrs.  Town- 
send  stood  on  the  border-land.  She  had  a  long  train  of 
ancestors  behind  her,  she  had  a  good  income  and  many 
social  advantages.  She  sifted  out  undesirable  acquaint- 
ance in  her  gatherings,  and  there  was  a  certain  elegant 
propriety  observed ;  but  she  brought  people  together  in 
her  fine,  friendly  manner  who  were  glad  to  know  each 
other.  If  she  took  up  some  poor,  struggling  artist  or 
author,  she  made  sure  beforehand  that  he  would  not  rail 
at  the  customs  of  refined  society  in  her  drawing-room, 
but  give  and  accept  those  graces  that  were  tonic  and 
reviving.  That  she  should  lecture  and  speak  at  public 
meetings  and  be  interested  in  the  great  questions  of  the 
day  was  put  down  as  one  of  the  entertainments  of  a 
woman  who  had  nothing  else  to  do,  and  who  really  en- 
joyed admiration. 

Gertrude  had  the  flower  of  the  men  coming  and  going 
about  her  table.  The  coffee  was  excellent,  and  she  man- 
aged the  accessories  with  admirable  grace.  Mr.  Murray 
brought  an  English  friend,  but  though  he  confessed  a 
fondness  for  tea,  was  tempted  by  the  fragrance  of  the 
coffee,  and  the  bright,  piquant  manner  of  the  girl  who 
poured  it. 

"I  was  sorry  to  miss  you  the  other  evening,"  Mr. 
Murray  said.  "Do  you  know  that  I  have  had  only  one 
glimpse  of  you  since  we  came  home  from  Maine?" 

"  One  ?  "     She  asked  it  reflectively. 

"  How  many  do  you  count  up?  " 

"  I  had — not  thought —     You  see  I  went  home,  and 


A   TOUCH  OF  NATURE.  131 

then  to  Chautauqua  and  Niagara,  and  we  have  not  been 
long  in  the  city." 

"I  don't  need  to  ask  whether  you  like  the  secretary- 
ship?" 

"  Perhaps  you  can  read  that  in  my  face,"  turning  it  to 
him  with  a  spice  of  bravado.  She  felt  strong  enough  to 
do  it  just  now. 

"It  is  a  joyous,  contented  face,"  he  said.  "I  am 
very  glad  you  have  been  happy." 

"  One  could  not  help  it  with  Mrs.  Townsend.  I  feel 
half  the  time  as  if  I  was  playing  at  earning  my  living." 

"You  are  having  too  good  a  time.  I  think  I  shall 
get  some  newspaper  work  for  you  to  do.  You  will  be- 
come enervated  by  all  this  ease  and  luxury  and  admira- 
tion." 

"Mrs.  Townsend  has  not  dismissed  me  yet,  and  I 
surely  shall  not  leave  of  my  own  accord." 

He  laughed  a  little.  Two  or  three  others  came  up, 
and  then  some  women  gathered  about  to  hear  Mr.  Murray 
talk.  He  had  the  art  of  attracting  men  as  well  as  women, 
and  since  the  masculines  seemed  to  converge  at  this 
point  the  butterflies  came  also. 

Gertrude  was  quietly  gracious.  She  had  never  seen 
Mr.  Murray  at  such  a  decided  advantage  socially,  and  a 
strange  sense  of  his  superiority  pervaded  her. 

Now  and  then  she  glanced  up  when  a  new  throng  en- 
tered.    Was  she  expecting  some  one,  he  wondered. 

The  some  one  did  not  come  until  after  Mr.  Murray 
had  left  with  Mrs.  Carew  and  Mrs.  Drayton.  Some  of 
the  younger  men  were  lingering,  but  when  Sherburne 
Beaumanoir  entered  he  seemed  to  add  a  distinction  to 
youth  and  good  looks. 

"O,"  said  Mrs.   Townsend,  "two  of  your  aunts  and 


132  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

your  uncle  have  just  gone.  And  there  have  been  some 
pretty  girls.  Miss  Heath,"  to  a  young  lady  standing 
near,  "will  you  show  Mr.  Beaumanoir  around  a  little. 
Like  the  famous  Alice  he  may  like  to  be  introduced  to 
tea  and  coffee. ' ' 

Miss  Heath  convoyed  the  well-dressed  and  well-man- 
nered young  fellow  hither  and  thither,  quite  proud  of  her 
charge.  No,  he  did  not  care  for  tea.  Coffee  was  his 
favorite.  And  then  he  greeted  Miss  Maurice  cordially, 
and  lingered  so  that  Miss  Heath  bade  them  a  reluctant 
adieu,  summoned  by  her  aunt. 

"I  thought  I  should  never  get  here,"  Sherburne  be- 
gan, hurriedly.  "  A  dozen  things  bothered.  The  per- 
versity of  inanimate  objects  is  sometimes  past  belief. 
And  now  it  is  quite  late.  May  I  sit  down  by  you  and 
sip  my  coffee  leisurely  ?  " 

"  Certainly.     Have  you  been  studying  hard  to-day?  " 

He  made  a  dainty  disdainful  gesture.  "  I  have  been 
bothered  out  of  my  wits  and  had  an  extra  lecture  from 
uncle." 

"  I  hope  you  haven't  come  up  to  this  great  human 
hive  to  sip  drone's  honey?     You  may  starve." 

"Then  I  shall  fly  to  you.  What  comforting  coffee  ! 
Now  isn't  that  better  than  if  I  had  said  delightful?" 

"  I  remember  comfortable  was  one  of  your  pet  words. 
The  other  is  next  of  kin,  I  suppose  ?  " 

He  flushed  slightly  with  the  pleased  vanity  of  a 
young  man  that  she  should  remember  anything  he  had 
said. 

"And  a  biscuit!"  handing  him  the  plate.  "  Or  al- 
monds. I  am  not  sure,  but  the  best  of  my  wares  are 
gone." 

"  So  long  as  you  are  not  gone — "  laughingly. 


A   TOUCH  OF  NATURE.  13} 

"I  am  a  fixture." 

"  Then  I  shall  come  in  to  see  you  often." 

"  Often  ?  "     She  raised  her  brows  but  looked  amused. 

There  were  no  more  guests  to  welcome.  Mrs.  Town- 
send  came  over  to  them  with  a  Mrs.  Jay,  who  knew  all 
of  his  relatives,  and  had  met  his  father  in  Washington. 

One  and  another  went  away.  Mr.  Fielder  was  staying 
to  consult  his  hostess  on  an  important  matter.  She 
looked  at  her  watch. 

"  You  had  better  remain  to  dinner,  if  you  will  accept 
my  informal  invitation,"  she  said.  "  It  will  be  served  in 
fifteen  minutes.  I  will  ask  the  young  man  also.  Three 
are  a  rather  awkward  party." 

The  young  man  was  most  happy.  The  fates  surely 
had  befriended  him. 

It  was  a  cozy  dinner.  Mr.  Fielder  and  Mrs.  Town- 
send  discussed  sociology,  the  young  people  flitted  from 
one  thing  to  another  and  found  much  amusement.  After- 
ward they  had  some  music  and  Sherburne  sang  several 
German  songs. 

"He  is  a  really  delightful  young  man,"  said  Mrs. 
Townsend.      "  And  I  hope  a  good  student." 

Miss  Maurice  seemed  in  such  a  whirl  that  she  did  not 
fall  asleep  in  her  usual  quick  manner.  She  rambled  over 
the  rocks  at  Melchias,  come  to  think  about  it  there  were 
a  good  many  walks  together,  and,  curious  talks.  It  was 
not  all  nonsense  either,  though  sometimes  it  was  difficult 
to  tell  whether  Mr.  Murray  was  in  earnest.  She  had 
flirted  a  very  little  with  Ward  Garrison  until  she  found 
him  verging  to  the  sentimental  side,  when  she  had  made 
a  jesting  matter  of  it.  She  felt  inwardly  that  Mr.  Mur- 
ray approved  of  this  course.  She  did  care  for  his  ap- 
proval.    Of  course,  having  come  on  his  niece's  invita- 


134  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

tion,  aided  and  abetted  by  himself,  she  was  too  just  to 
do  anything  that  would  offend  any  one.  That  Bertram 
should  be  her  shadow  was  simply  amusing. 

On  the  yacht  she  felt  the  indescribable  difference  in 
his  demeanor  toward  her.  They  had  all  been  children 
on  a  summer  frolic,  now  she  was  in  a  slightly  altered  po- 
sition, nearer  womanhood,  a  young  girl  studying  the  fu- 
ture. And  when  one  of  her  letters  brought  a  disap- 
pointment he  remarked  it. 

"  I  am  the  most  unreasonable  creature  in  the  world," 
she  said  to  him.  "  I  simply  hate  the  idea  of  teaching 
school,  and  it  is  the  only  thing  for  which  I  am  fitted.  I 
hope  the  prospect  before  me  will  fail,  and  when  it  does 
come  to  nought  I  am  bitterly  disappointed.  I  have  to 
take  up  another,  and  either  they  want  half  a  dozen 
things  I  am  not  a  proficient  in,  and  a  college  degree,  or 
else  the  work  is  hard  and  the  salary  meagre,  and  I  hold 
off  for  something  better." 

"  There  is  office-work/  how  would  you  like  that?" 

"I  could  write  letters — yes,  I  think  I  might  do  office- 
work — but  how  would  I  get  the  office  ?  "  and  she  looked 
up  with  such  a  droll,  mock-serious  expression  that  he 
was  amused,  interested.  "This  is  a  case  where  the 
office  doesn't  seek  the  man  or  the  woman,  but  there  are 
dozens  of  applicants  for  every  place.  I  dare  say  you 
know  all  about  that.  I  don't  like  the  work-day  world. 
That's  a  tremendous  heresy  in  this  enlightened  age  of 
woman's  progress ;  isn't  it  ?  I  am  fond  of  ease  and 
leisure.  If  I  had  the  voice  of  your  lovely  Princess  I 
should  go  on  the  stage ;  if  I  had  Miss  Osborne's  genius  I 
think  I  would  work  my  way  up  somewhere.  I  really 
would  have  courage.  And  if  I  were  as  beautiful  as  Pearl 
Amory — can  you  guess  what  I  would  do  ?  " 


A  TO UCH  OF  NA  TURE.  1 35 

"What?"  He  asked  it  in  a  curious  tone,  doubtful, 
with  a  laugh  at  the  back  of  it. 

"  I  should  marry  a  rich  man.  There  !  I  have  poured 
out  the  inmost  recesses  of  my  soul  to  you.  I  shall  be 
high-minded,  virtuous,  and  heroic,  because  no  tempta- 
tions will  come  in  my  way.  And  now  you  can  put  me 
in  an  article  under  the  caption  of  '  Girls  I  have  known.'  " 

"An  honest  girl,"  he  made  answer.  "Though  she 
does  not  take  a  very  high  estimate  of  her  abilities. ' ' 

"But  I  have  no  abilities.  My  education  has  been 
hammered  into  me  by  hard  work.  I  cannot  be  enthusi- 
astic over  the  things  I  don't  like." 

"  What  about  the  things  you  do  like?  " 

She  laughed  instead  of  answering.  There  was  a  soft 
flush  in  her  face,  a  vague  mistiness  in  her  eyes,  and  a 
little  quiver  that  remained  about  her  lips  after  the  laugh 
had  gone. 

"  I  learned  long  ago  not  to  cry  for  the  moon,"  she  said, 
feeling  that  he  was  waiting  for  a  reply. 

"  The  true  philosophy  of  life." 

Then  they  paced  the  small  deck  and  exchanged  bits  of 
badinage  with  the  others  they  met. 

After  that  talk  they  seemed  on  a  different  footing ;  he 
more  serious  and  friendly,  she  with  a  feeling  that  he  knew 
her  triviality  and  lack  of  ambition,  and  her  true  estimate 
of  herself. 

Now  and  then  Con  Murray  wondered  he  had  not  mar- 
ried. All  the  other  children  were  settled  in  homes  of 
their  own.  His  parents  had  gone  back  to  their  first  love, 
a  pretty  suburban  cottage  and  one  servant.  Mr.  Murray 
still  kept  a  business  interest,  and  his  advice  was  highly 
valued.  The  children  and  grandchildren  came  out  and 
made  visits.     He  often  ran  out  and  spent  a  night  and  de- 


136  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

voted  the  morning  to  teasing  his  little  mother,  who  never 
ceased  to  bewail  the  fact  that  he  wasn't  married. 

There  had  been  plenty  of  opportunities.  But  when  he 
came  to  the  serious  point,  he  was  fond  of  his  liberty. 
And  at  this  crisis  some  journey  loomed  up  attractively. 
There  had  been  several  intense  fancies  in  his  youth,  but  in 
every  instance  he  was  glad  later  on  that  he  had  not 
yielded  to  them. 

He  ought  to  marry  some  refined,  rather  sedate,  society 
woman,  who  could  still  shine  when  occasion  offered,  yet 
who  could  be  content  with  home  joys  and  let  him  have 
his  own  way  pretty  well.  And  yet — he  was  so  fond  of 
girls,  real  girls  with  whims  and  wants,  the  delicate  with- 
holding, the  generous  giving,  the  charm  that  gets  toned 
down  presently — the  seductive  charm  of  youth.  And  he 
was  so  ridiculously  young  !  He  still  had  a  boy's  exu- 
berance. He  would  like  to  gather  half  a  dozen  girls  in 
his  home  and  give  them  a  good  time,  let  them  dance  and 
be  merry  with  the  blessedness  of  the  magical  time  that 
flies  too  swiftly.     Why  had  it  not  flown  with  him  ? 

If  Princess  would  come  and  have  her  young  friends 
about  her  !  But  Tessy  wanted  her  this  year.  Few  of 
the  girls  would  be  in  the  city.  And  Dell's  daughter  was 
shy  and  quiet,  young  for  her  years. 

He  liked  Gertrude  Maurice  very  much.  He  should 
not  spoil  a  brilliant  future  for  her  if  he  did  take  her  into 
his  keeping.  He  knew  a  great  deal  about  girls'  lives  and 
the  mixed  motives  of  their  marriages,  and  he  had  an  old- 
fashioned  notion  that  most  of  them  were  better  off  in 
homes  of  their  own,  even  if  it  was  not  an  ideal  home. 

He  watched  her  when  she  was  not  on  guard,  for  there 
were  times  when  she  wore  an  impassive  front  or  shielded 
herself  behind  a  mask  of  ridiculous  gayety. 


A   TOUCH  OF  NATURE.  137 

He  guessed  presently  that  both  were  used  as  a  sort  of 
guard.  He  had  written  to  Mrs.  Townsend  about  her  and 
advised  her  to  refer  to  Mrs.  St.  John. 

Then  came  the  last  evening  of  their  return  journey. 
To-morrow  they  were  to  part,  or  she  was  to  part  with 
them,  and  go  back  to  the  dreary  round,  immeasurably 
worse  for  this  grand  holiday,  she  said  in  the  bitterness  of 
her  soul. 

He  had  not  meant  to  ask  her  now,  or  in  this  mood. 
Indeed,  it  was  more  of  a  suggestion  than  asking,  but  she 
had  replied  so  quickly  with  a  kind  of  breathless  intensity 
that  almost  confessed  while  it  denied.  Every  feeling  of 
honor  rose  up  to  strengthen  her.  And  in  his  heart  he 
really  respected  her  for  it.  Neither  would  he  take  an  ad- 
vantage. If  she  did  not  accept  Mrs.  Townsend's  offer, 
he  would  then  hunt  her  up  and  insist  upon  her  accepting 
his. 

A  little  later  he  had  an  interview  with  Mrs.  Townsend, 
who  had  written  to  Freeport,  very  well  satisfied  with  Mrs. 
St.  John's  commendation. 

"  Con  Murray,"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  kind  of  shrewd 
mirthfulness,  "  I  believe  you  are  interested  in  her  your- 
self. If  she  comes  to  me,  I  shall  have  her  sign  an  iron- 
clad agreement.  There  must  be  no  philandering,  no 
letters,  no  anything.     I  want  her  for  a  year  or  not  at  all." 

"  Well,  have  a  care  that  no  one  else  comes  along  to 
philander.  Bring  her  back  to  New  York  fancy  free.  I 
trust  you,  you  see." 

"  You  are  a  foolish  fellow  to  choose  that  way.  And 
so  young  a  girl." 

"I  like  young  girls.  I'll  tell  you  in  a  year's  time 
whether  I  have  chosen  or  not.  And  she  may  find  some 
one  more  to  her  fancy." 


138  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  You  are  a  flirt  of  the  deepest  dye." 

He  nodded  humorously. 

There  had  been  a  great  many  things  to  occupy  his 
year.  Hers  had  been  full  of  variety  and  satisfactions. 
He  had  kept  his  word,  merely  hoping  in  his  occasional 
notes  that  her  secretary  was  doing  well,  and  being  as 
briefly  answered.  And  though  circumstances  had  seemed 
rather  untoward  through  the  summer,  there  would  be  all 
the  winter.  He  had  wondered  a  little  if  he  had  not  been 
overhasty,  but  when  he  met  her,  he  resolved  to  abide  by 
his  first  impressions.  Miss  Maurice  had  acquired  many 
society  graces  and  learned  to  make  much  more  of  herself. 

It  had  been  a  puzzle  from  her  point  of  view.  A  more 
sentimental  girl  might  have  dropped  headlong  in  love. 
She  had  stood  off  warily  from  a  fine  self-respect.  And 
even  now  in  these  few  interviews  she  could  not  decide 
upon  the  nature  of  his  regard.  He  must  be  used  to 
women's  attentions ;  she  would  not  fall  down  and  wor- 
ship him.  She  had  a  curiously  resentful  feeling.  And 
now  she  understood  that  this  young  Sherburne  Beau- 
manoir  admired  her  immensely.  If  she  wanted  any 
little — well,  retaliation,  for  she  did  not  feel  sufficiently 
vindictive  for  revenge,  she  could  let  this  go  on  awhile. 
It  was  only  a  boy's  fancy.  Young  Beaumanoir  would 
have  dozens  of  them  before  he  settled  to  the  real  love  of 
his  life. 

If  people  were  still  lingering  in  country  houses,  there 
were  enough  in  the  city  to  set  all  kinds  of  enjoyments 
astir.  Theatres,  concerts,  art  receptions,  club  openings, 
driving  in  the  park,  small  dinners,  dances  for  young 
people,  shopping  and  calling. 

Mrs.  Townsend  had  her  hands  full.  It  was  understood 
that  she  was  always  at  home  on  Friday  evening.     There 


A   TOUCH  OF  NATURE.  139 

were  no  special  invitations,  and  one  and  another  brought 
in  a  friend  who  had  something  to  contribute  or  who 
wished  to  enjoy.  Miss  Maurice  was  quite  indispensable 
on  these  occasions.  She  fulfilled  her  social  obligations 
with  grace  and  ease,  she  brought  shy  people  together  who 
might  have  looked  longingly  all  the  evening  at  each  other 
and  gone  away  hungering. 

Mr.  Murray  brought  his  nephew — he  did  try  to  cap- 
ture the  professor,  but  in  vain.  He  was  rather  startled 
at  Sherburne's  appropriation  of  Gertrude,  and  the  pleas- 
ure the  two  seemed  to  take  in  each  other.  Yes,  she  was 
young — and  if  some  young  men —  But  then  Sherburne 
was  not  eligible ;  he  was  a  mere  boy  with  hardly  any 
plans  to  life ;  and  years  of  study  yet  before  him.  Of 
course  a  serious  thought  was  simply  ridiculous,  and  he 
laughed  at  himself.     Let  them  have  their  gay  time. 

Gertrude  Maurice  studied  herself  in  the  glass  that 
night,  before  she  removed  the  withered  flowers  at  her 
belt,  or  the  pins  from  her  hair.  She  had  grown  better 
looking.  Her  complexion  had  cleared  up  a  little,  though 
it  could  hardly  be  called  fair,  but  her  eyes  were  unde- 
niably fine,  dark  and  lustrous.  She  had  learned  how  to 
use  them.  The  great  coil  of  light  hair  was  almost  a 
crown,  the  chin  and  throat  had  rounded  out.  She  was 
not  as  thin  as  she  used  to  be,  and  the  freedom  from  wor- 
riment,  the  enjoyments  and  delight  had  given  her  spirit 
and  vigor.  She  held  herself  erect,  but  it  was  with  a 
grace  and  not  stiffness. 

"  I  do  not  need  to  worry,"  she  said  to  the  girl  in  the 
glass,  "I  am  young  and  everything  is  pleasant,  really 
better  than  traveling  about  so  much.  I  even  think  I 
might  marry  well  presently,  though  there  is  no  hurry.  I 
shall  just  enjoy  things " 


140  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

What  she  said  down  in  her  heart  was — "  He  was 
amusing  himself  in  that  old  time,  men  often  do.  I  was 
wise.  I  have  kept  my  friends  and  done  nothing  mean  or 
underhand.  I  do  not  suppose  he  will  ever  marry — that 
seems  to  be  the  general  impression  about  him." 

Princess  had  written  a  dainty  little  note  to  her.  She 
felt  they  ought  to  be  real  friends  again,  and  the  very  next 
morning  Gertrude  answered  it,  while  the  spirit  of  delight 
was  still  strong  upon  her.  She  made  people  as  real  with  her 
pen  as  when  she  talked  about  them.  The  Kenneths  and 
Ruth,  their  own  pretty  rooms,  the  reception  and  the 
evening,  Sherburne  and  Mr.  Murray,  the  beautiful  home 
of  the  Carews,  and  the  hosts  of  big  boys,  the  delightful 
weather,  the  drives  in  the  park,  the  exhibitions  that 
seemed  always  opening.  She  ought  to  be  here  in  the 
midst  of  it  all. 

She  would  like  to  be  there.  She  had  settled  matters, 
and  given  up  what  was  not  for  her. 

"  Aunt  Violet  has  some  plans  for  you,  for  us  all,"  said 
Mrs.  Beaumanoir.  "I  am  glad  that  Miss  Mead  is  com- 
ing so  soon ;  and  if  I  like  her  I  shall  feel  quite  free. 
And  we  will  see  what  papa  says.  Aunt  Violet  wants  us 
to  come  for  a  fortnight — she  wishes  to  include  you  in  her 
bevy  of  pretty  maids  at  the  reception.  And  we  ought  to 
go  and  visit  Aunt  Julia." 

"Yes,"  Princess  rejoined.  But  she  did  not  feel  very 
eager  for  the  gayety. 

"  Was  your  letter  from  Aunt  Lyndell  ?  " 

"O  no.  Miss  Maurice.  It  is  so  bright  and  chatty 
you  must  read  it,  mamma.  I  should  spoil  it  in  the  telling," 
and  she  laid  it  in  her  mother's  lap. 

Mrs.  Beaumanoir  perused  it,  smiling  and  making  run- 
ning comments. 


A   TO  UCH  OF  NA  TURE.  1 4 1 

"I  am  quite  longing  to  see  Auntie  Dell's  house.  How 
good  she  was  to  take  in  the  boys  !  Bert  is  so  happy. 
There  seems  to  be  a  colony  of  them,  and  no  grown-up 
girl  to  temper  their  exuberance.  But  I  do  think  Sher- 
burne is  pretty  gay  for  a  young  student.  Yes,  Miss 
Maurice  writes  charming  letters." 

Princess  had  taken  up  her  embroidery  and  seemed  to 
be  diligently  inspecting  it.  Mrs.  Kenneth  and  her  house- 
hold had  come  in  for  a  bright  picture  and  a  veiled  sug- 
gestion. Would  it  affect  Princess?  What  was  in  her 
mind,  for  surely  it  had  once  been  all  in  her  own  hands  if 
she  really  cared. 

"I  am  like  Aunt  Lyndell,"  she  said  at  length.  "I 
am  almost  sorry  to  have  the  children  grow  up." 

The  judge  said  they  must  go  of  course.  Violet  planned 
to  have  the  girls  simply  dressed  in  soft  white  silk.  They 
would  not  indulge  in  expensive  finery  this  winter  while 
they  were  "buds." 

Miss  Mead,  the  new  governess,  came  to  hand  and  was 
a  very  agreeable  person,  hardly  thirty,  with  both  dignity 
and  good  breeding.  So  there  was  nothing  to  prevent 
their  going  up  to  Washington. 

Pearl  was  full  of  eager  delight.  Washington  would 
not  be  at  its  gayest  until  after  the  holidays,  but  it  was 
gay  enough.  Congress  had  opened.  The  weather  was 
magnificent. 

They  found  Aunt  Julia  very  happy,  and  Ray  sweet 
and  gracious. 

"To  think  of  four  girls  making  their  bow  to  society," 
she  said,  gayly.  "  Aunt  Violet  has  a  good  deal  of  cour- 
age. But  there  are  so  many  '  functions,'  that  I  doubt  if 
she  could  get  us  in  one  by  one.  And  you  can  hardly 
imagine  how  important  I  feel  as  papa's  housekeeper,  as  if 


142  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

I  had  grown  half  a  dozen  years  older.  Aunt  Lyndell 
said  she  had  all  the  boys  up  there  and  we  had  all  the 
girls  down  here,  and  that  it  was  hardly  fair." 

It  was  a  very  attractive  home.  Violet  Osborne  had 
sent  her  two  paintings,  one  a  bit  of  Melchias  that  Prin- 
cess recognized  at  once.  Pearl  had  sent  her  two  splen- 
did sofa  cushions.  Uncle  Winthrop  and  his  wife  had 
been  their  first  guests,  and  they  had  brought  some  ex- 
quisite china. 

"It  is  almost  like  being  married,"  said  Ray,  with  a 
bright  smile,  "  perhaps  as  near  as  I  shall  ever  get.  And 
there  have  been  so  many  friends  of  Aunt  Julia's.  One 
lady,  a  Mrs.  Galbraith,  has  a  beautiful  house  and  horses. 
Twice  a  week  she  sends  the  carriage  over  for  us.  When 
she  has  time  she  accompanies  us.  I  seem  right  in  the 
midst  of  lovely  living,  and  I  was  afraid  I  had  left  most 
of  it  behind." 

"All  living  is  lovely  when  the  heart  goes  in  it,"  said 
Aunt  Tessy. 

Her  heart  had  gone  into  this,  Ray  knew.  She  had 
taken  it  up  as  a  duty  she  owed  ;  she  found  it  a  pleasure. 
She  and  her  father  were  growing  into  finer  accord.  She 
could  understand  so  much  more  of  his  life  and  the  great 
sacrifice  he  had  made ;  the  useless  sacrifice. 

Aunt  Julia  was  glad  enough  to  welcome  them,  and 
wanted  to  know  about  the  New  York  contingent.,  though 
Lyndell  found  time  in  her  busy  life  to  write  charming 
letters  to  the  first  of  the  Sherburne  aunts  she  had  learned 
to  love.  Millicent  did  not  neglect  her  either,  and  her 
two  younger  sons  joined  heartily  in  adding  to  her  happi- 
ness. 

Aniory  House  was  a  scene  of  delightful  confusion. 
It  had  enlarged   its  borders  since  Violet  came  there  a 


A   TOUCH  OF  NATURE.  143 

happy  young  wife.  Then  they  had  seemed  in  almost  a 
wilderness  of  greenery,  now  streets  had  reached  out  to 
them  and  they  were  no  longer  hidden  from  the  great  city 
of  the  land,  growing  more  beautiful  year  by  year.  The 
studio  had  a  wing  to  itself  and  an  entrance  that  was 
quite  stately  and  held  two  or  three  receptions  of  its  own 
in  the  course  of  the  winter. 

There  was  a  fine  conservatory  as- well,  and  grounds  that 
were  beautiful  from  early  spring  to  near  Christmas. 
Violet  Amory  had  been  very  happy  all  the  years  of  her 
married  life. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    FLOCK    OF    GIRLS. 

\  FLOCK  of  girls  surely  in  their  fluttering  white 
gowns  and  ribbons  and  their  charming  youth.  No 
one  was  envious  that  Pearl  carried  off  the  palm.  There 
was  a  steady  procession,  and  every  one  was  fresh  and 
amiable  and  did  not  grudge  compliments  that  had  not 
had  long  enough  society  usage  to  become  hackneyed  to 
the  recipients. 

But  the  delight  of  the  girls  was  the  ball  of  the  even- 
ing. There  were  young  men  in  plenty,  the  music  was 
enchanting,  and  the  dancing  sheer  fascination.  What 
hosts  of  memories  it  called  up  to  Judge  Beaumanoir  of 
his  own  youth. 

"If  Lyndell  could  only  have  been  here,"  he  and 
Violet  Amory  said  almost  in  a  breath. 

"  Violet,  are  we  getting  to  be  middle-aged  people  with 
all  these  sons  and  daughters  ?  Sometimes  it  seems  such 
a  long  while  since  Dell  first  came  among  us." 

"  Years  and  years.  Yet  I  can  recall  that  first  night, 
and  how  she  has  won  love  from  all  of  us." 

"And  worthily,"  he  added,  with  deep  feeling. 

"  Now  the  gayety  and  gladness  have  passed  on  to  our 
children.     I  hope  they  will  be  just  as  happy  as  we  were." 

They  certainly  were  gay  and  glad  and  danced  to 
their  hearts'  content.  It  was  quite  the  event  of  the  early 
season. 

And  then  Uncle  Beaumanoir  made  them  happy  again 
144 


A   FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  145 

by  a  very  delightful  dinner  and  a  theatre  party  after- 
ward. Aunt  Julia's  friend,  Mrs.  Galbraith,  gave  a  little 
dance  for  Ray.     She  was  very  fond  of  young  people. 

They  were  fain  to  keep  Princess  over  Christmas,  but 
there  were  so  many  things  to  do  and  the  children  would 
need  her.  Then  the  boys  might  come  home.  Millicent 
and  her  family  would  keep  the  feast  at  Beaumanoir. 
Leonard  insisted  on  the  boys  accompanying  them.  Ber- 
tram agreed  at  once,  but  Sherburne  rather  demurred. 

"  Of  course  you  will  go,"  said  his  uncle. 

The  Carews  asked  in  the  Kenneths  and  Miss  Ensign, 
as  they  seemed  to  have  no  family  to  gather  about  them. 

"  Everybody  was  inconsolable,"  Pearl  wrote  to  Prin- 
cess. "  Quiet  little  body  that  you  are,  you  really  made 
a  conquest  of  that  Mr.  Sevier.  He  had  asked  so  particu- 
larly about  Sherburne  House,  and  how  you  get  there, 
that  I  think  he  must  meditate  coming,  unless  you 
appear  again  on  the  scene  of  action.  And  I  receive  in- 
vitations for  you  frequently.  We  were  all  four  asked  to 
a  dance  and  a  special  figure  in  the  german  was  arranged 
in  our  honor.  Mrs.  Galbraith  consulted  mamma  about  a 
musicale  in  which  she  wanted  you  to  sing. 

"  Papa  scolds  a  little  about  the  dissipation,  and  says 
Violet  will  be  ruined  if  this  goes  on,  and  she  was  begin- 
ning to  paint  so  well.  I  am  glad  I  have  no  particular 
genius  and  can  indulge  in  pleasures  without  stint." 

"She  ought  to  go  up  again,"  said  Judge  Beaumanoir. 
He  was  very  fond  of  having  his  pretty  daughter  admired. 
"And — "  with  a  queer  little  hesitation — "what  of  the 
lover  whose  eagerness  seems  to  have  died  out.  Has  he 
gone  back  to  his  first  love — science  ?  ' ' 

He  glanced  at  his  wife  with  a  half  smile  in  which  there 
was  a  trace  of  annoyance. 


146  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  Whatever  has  happened  is  due  to  Princess,"  said 
her  mother.  "And  if  she  should  prefer  freedom  and 
gayety  for  awhile  we  will  not  blame  her." 

"I'm  not  blaming  her.  I  want  her  to  have  some 
bright,  glad  youth.  There  is  no  zest  like  that  of  youth, 
and  there  is  no  time  when  one  so  thoroughly  enjoys 
young  pleasures.  One  gets  a  broader  outlook  with  the 
years,  and  the  responsibility  of  life  dawns  upon  the  more 
experienced  vision.  I  remember  what  good  times  we 
had  in  our  youth,  and  Sherburne  House  was  a  synonym 
for  enjoyment." 

"I  wish  there  could  be  no  thought  of  marriage  for  a 
long  while  to  come.  I  did  not  want  Princess  to  begin 
life  so  early.     Well,  I  may  have  my  wish." 

And  yet  she  felt  sorry  for  the  grave  and  high-toned 
man  who  had  awakened  to  the  possibility  of  a  happy 
satisfying  existence.  She  wondered  a  little  how  she  had 
come  to  understand  and  like  him  so  well,  that  there 
should  be  a  slight  pang  in  his  disappointment,  while  she 
was  glad  to  keep  her  child.  How  complex  one's  feel- 
ings were ! 

They  were  all  glad  to  have  her  back.  Miss  Armitage 
said 

"You  could  not  have  given  us  a  better  treat  than  to 
come  and  help  us  with  our  Christmas  music.  I  wonder 
if  you  do  realize  how  much  joy  you  can  give  with  your 
singing." 

Was  it  not  her  business  in  life  to  give  joy  wherever 
she  could,  and  not  take  away  the  gladness  illumining  any 
other  soul  ? 

Sherburne  made  a  plunge  into  the  country  gayeties. 
There  were  parties  and  dances,  and  it  was  flattering 
to    have    two    or    three   people   fighting   for   him,    and 


A   FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  147 

consulting  his  convenience  as  to  what  evening  he  could 
give  them,  and  expressing  regret  that  his  stay  should  be 
so  brief. 

Judge  Beaumanoir  watched  his  son  with  rather  appre- 
hensive eyes.  But  had  there  not  been  a  time  when  he 
was  quite  as  pleasure-loving,  quite  as  careless  of  the 
future  ?  But  somehow  he  had  come  to  look  upon  Sher- 
burne as  a  rather  intellectual  young  man,  a  son  he  was  to 
be  proud  of,  a  good  student,  who  would  make  his  mark. 
Doctor  Carew  did  not  write  enthusiastically  about  him 
and  this  was  a  source  of  secret  mortification. 

"  I  hope  you  are  doing  your  best,"  he  said  to  him. 

Sherburne  made  a  dainty  inscrutable  gesture,  which 
might  mean  many  things. 

"  I  have  been  skirmishing  about  the  romance  of  medi- 
cine," he  replied,  lightly,  "and  it  is  like  playing  the  piano 
by  ear  for  your  own  delectation.  But  when  you  come  to 
the  real  drudgery,  it  is  not  all  rose  color.  Uncle  Bert 
has  set  me  at  the  drudgery  in  the  beginning.  Of  course 
I  shall  fight  through — but  one  must  have  some  relaxation. 
And  there  is  time  enough." 

Bertram  had  shot  up  into  a  tall  lad,  and  even  if  he  was 
bookish,  he  was  a  great  delight  to  the  younger  children 
with  his  fresh,  eager  interest  in  everything,  and  his  cheer- 
ful good  humor.  He  and  Princess  had  delightful  confi- 
dences. The  evenings  at  Aunt  Millicent's  were  enthusi- 
astically described,  and  the  pretty  brightness  of  Ruth  with 
the  motherly  sweetness  of  Mrs.  Kenneth. 

"  And  everybody  hopes  you  will  come  up  for  a  visit," 
said  the  boy,  eagerly.  "Indeed,  I  really  had  strict  in- 
junctions to  bring  you.  We  could  have  such  a  good 
time.  Princess,"  humorously — "there  ought  to  be  two 
of  you." 


148  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"Twins,"  said  the  sister,  laughingly. 

"But  twins  are  not  alike.  Randolph  now  is  a  big, 
breezy  fellow,  just  a  little  rough,  but  good-natured,  and 
Milly  is  such  a  shy  sort  of  girl,  always  wanting  to  shrink, 
away  in  corners  and  not  caring  half  as  much  for  fun  as 
Honor.  Honor  is  going  to  be  more  like  Auntie  Dell,  but 
Milly  has  such  lovely  golden  hair  and  great  dark  eyes 
that  have  a  startled  expression  in  them.  She  doesn't 
look  any  more  like  Ran  than  a  dainty,  delicate  star  looks 
like  a  great  full  moon  when  the  man  is  in  it.  And  if  you 
had  a  twin  I  should  want  it  to  be  exactly  like  you, 
or  else  I  should  take  you.  Princess,  why  can't  you 
come  ? ' ' 

It  was  very  sweet  to  be  wanted.  She  smiled  grate- 
fully. 

"  And  you  can't  think  how  elegant  it  is  at  Mrs.  Town- 
send's.  They  have  'evenings'  for  almost  everything. 
The  professor  goes  once  in  a  while.  Uncle  Con  is  there 
very  often,  and  I  do  think  Sherburne  is  quite  struck  with 
Miss  Maurice.  She's  ever  so  stylish,  and  changed  some- 
how, just  bright  and  witty,  and  not  afraid  of  anybody. 
But  we  boys  can't  have  much  of  her,  you  know." 

"  I  should  think  not,  with  all  your  lessons,"  said  Prin- 
cess, with  a  pretty  show  of  authority. 

"  Well,  there  are  lessons  and  lectures  and  what  not  for 
Sherburne,  but  he  seems  to  put  in  a  deal  of  other  things. 
People  ask  him  everywhere  just  as  they  do  here.  I  sup- 
pose it's  being  grown  up — and  good-looking,"  and  Bertram 
made  a  comical  face  before  he  smiled. 

The  holidays  were  very  bright  and  enjoyable.  Prin- 
cess found  so  much  work  to  do.  Were  people  more  easily 
pleased  in  this  simple  life,  or  was  she  taking  hold  of  some 
of  the  mysteries  and   evolving  that  greater  enjoyment, 


A  FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  149 

blessedness  in  giving  herself,  her  very  best,  just  as  freely 
here  as  in  the  great  world. 

It  was  not  quite  so  gay  when  the  boys  had  gone. 

"Wouldn't  you  rather  go  up  with  me?"  asked  her 
father  the  evening  before  his  departure.  "  The  girls  will 
want  you,  and  there  are  so  many  pleasures  to  enjoy." 

"I  am  going  to  stay  at  home  with  mamma  a  little 
while,"  she  answered,  softly. 

But  it  was  only  a  very  little  while,  for  this  time  Pearl 
wrote  a  moving  letter. 

"We  are  all  moaning  for  you.  The  'harbor  bar'  is 
nothing  to  it.  And  if  you  do  not  want  us  to  make  per- 
fect wrecks  of  ourselves  and  go  drifting  down  the  shores 
of  disappointment  bay,  you  will  come  at  once.  I  thought 
the  quartette  had  a  rather  ridiculous  side  when  we  were 
all  out  in  our  best  finery  at  mamma's  tea.  But  it  seems 
that  we  invented  a  new  custom.  There  are  three  houses 
that  insist  upon  having  us  in  full  force,  and  you  will  get 
a  letter  from  Mrs.  Galbraith  explaining  her  plans  and  de- 
sires. She  has  such  a  beautiful  home,  and  really  I  think 
she  has  been  quite  smitten  with  us  all.  She  takes  Aunt 
Julia  and  Ray  out  in  her  carriage,  and  every  few  days 
she  is  over  to  the  studio.  There's  a  dainty  little  bit  of 
Robin's  Point  that  Violet  painted,  and  papa  says  it  is 
really  well  done.  She  wanted  to  buy  it,  but  papa  per- 
suaded Violet  to  send  it  home.  He  did  not  want  her  to 
sell  any  pictures  just  yet,  and  he  said  if  she  let  that  one 
go  she  would  begin  to  have  orders,  and  she  was  too  young 
and  would  be  spoiled  by  flattery  and  never  realize  that  she 
could  and  ought  to  do  a  great  deal  better.  See  what  it  is  to 
be  wise  and  under  teachers  and  masters,  and  to  be  giving 
up  heroically,  and  submit  to  the  discipline  of  work.  I  am 
glad  I  have  no  genius,  though  I  think  I  have  mentioned 


150  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

that  point  of  thanksgiving  before.  But  what  do  you  think 
Daisy,  the  little  midget,  did  a  few  days  ago  ?  though  I 
believe  she  was  a  week  or  two  working  at  it.  She  wrote 
some  little  rhymes,  very  cute,  too,  and  made  pictures  to 
suit  with  pen  and  ink.  Papa  thought  them  wonderful. 
We  may  have  a  family  genius  after  all. 

"  You  may  see  I  am  not  practiced  at  letter-writing.  I 
ramble  from  scene  to  scene,  and  forget  my  starting  point. 
Mrs.  Galbraith  will  explain  to  Aunt  Tessy's  satisfaction 
I  hope.  Do  you  remember  Mrs.  Rheid,  whose  one  son 
is  private  secretary  somewhere,  and  the  other  a  cadet  at 
Annapolis  ?  The  cadet  has  a  furlough  or  a  vacation — 
has  been  slightly  ill,  and  will  be  home  a  fortnight,  and 
she  wants  us  for  the  dance  she  is  to  give  the  boys,  all  of 
us,  the  unbroken  quartette.  Mamma  sent  her  to  Uncle 
Beaumanoir,  and  there  are  so  many  pleasures  you  must 
remain  a  full  fortnight,  and  help  make  the  quartette  a 
signal  success." 

Princess  went  to  her  mother's  room  with  her  letter  in 
her  hand.  She  looked  up  in  bright,  amused  inquiry 
from  one  she  was  reading. 

"  O  mamma — is  it  from  Mrs.  Galbraith?" 
"  Has  she  written  to  you  ?  " 

"No.  This  is  such  a  long,  chatty  letter  from  Pearl, 
who  always  detested  letter-writing.  You  must  read  it. 
She  speaks  of  Mrs.  Galbraith's  invitation." 

"  That  lady's  note  is  quite  charming.  She  wants  you 
to  sing  at  her  musicale,  and  asks  that  you  may  be  her 
guest  for  a  few  days.  I  am  always  sorry  for  the  people 
who  love  girls  and  have  none  of  their  own.  She  seems 
to  like  Ray  very  much.  I  am  glad  Ray  is  getting  to  be 
such  a  favorite.  I  suppose  you  will  go  ?  " 
Princess  smiled  a  little. 


A   FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  151 

"  You  think  I  ought  ?  "  She  had  read  assent  already 
in  her  mother's  face. 

"And  here  is  another  reason,"  looking  up  with  a 
quick  light  in  the  soft  motherly  eyes. 

"Mrs.  Rheid  is  quite  delightful.  And  she  wants  a 
daughter  instead  of  two  boys.  Mamma,  it  is  nice  to 
have  a  good  many." 

"Yes,  dear,"  returned  the  mother,  with  a  sweet  satis- 
faction. Her  six  were  none  too  many.  If  some  of  them 
went  out  of  the  home  circle  others  would  grow  up  to  fill 
their  places.  Even  a  larger  number  had  been  no  detri- 
ment to  her  own  mother's  household. 

There  was  a  curious  little  question  cropping  up  now 
and  then  in  the  mind  of  Princess  Beaumanoir.  She  was 
very  fond  of  Miss  Armitage,  who  was  on  the  rather  heroic 
and  conscientious  order.  She  had  had  her  day  in  youth, 
and  the  sun  had  dropped  suddenly  down  and  left  twi- 
light. She  had  devoted  years  to  her  mother,  who  had 
faded  away  like  a  snowdrift,  and  gone  in  a  night.  There 
were  her  brother  and  her  church  left,  and  they  became 
all  to  her. 

"It  is  almost  the  doctor  and  Miss  Neale  over  again," 
Ardmore  people  said. 

There  was  no  sharpness  in  the  sweet  low  register  of 
the  voice,  no  frown  had  been  allowed  to  settle  in  the 
face,  the  mouth  was  gravely  sweet.  A  woman  doing  her 
duty  in  that  state  of  life  that  had  come  to  her,  sweet, 
cheerful,  and  never  discouraged  with  small  results. 
Princess  wondered  how  she  could  so  relinquish  any  per- 
sonal desires.  She  did  not  realize  that  between  eighteen 
and  forty  many  desires  have  been  gratified,  many  over- 
lived, and  that  some  of  the  lost  sweetness  of  youth  was 
found  again  in  riper  middle  life.    But  one  of  the  perplex- 


152  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

ing  questions  of  a  conscientious  young  girl  was  how  much 
of  herself  belonged  to  the  world,  how  much  to  the  vine- 
yard wherein  all  were  workers. 

The  next  morning's  mail  brought  a  delightful  but 
rather  peremptory  letter  from  her  father.  She  was  to 
come  at  once,  and  take  another  taste  of  youthful  pleas- 
ure. 

The  children  lamented  loudly,  and  the  little  cousins  at 
Aunt  Fanny's  joined  in  the  chorus. 

"Princess  is  a  lovely  girl,"  Aunt  Fanny  said  to  her 
mother.  "  But  that  is  no  reason  why  she  should  be 
mewed  up  in  a  little  round  and  miss  the  delight  of 
youth." 

So  Princess  started  on  her  journey,  and  was  met  with 
a  host  of  welcomes.  And  there  were  invitations  enough 
to  last  one  a  month  at  least.  Mrs.  Galbraith  sent  for 
the  girls  to  come  and  dine,  and  explained  her  plan.  It 
was  not  to  be  a  mere  professional  entertainment,  but  a 
delightful  hour  of  music,  and  a  luncheon  afterward.  Sev- 
eral young  society  girls  had  responded  readily  to  the  re- 
quest. A  noted  professor  was  to  come  in  and  make  their 
selections  and  give  them  a  little  training.  A  young 
tenor,  who  was  going  abroad  presently  to  perfect  his 
musical  education  would  join  them,  and  a  choral  club 
would  appear  for  a  number  or  two.  Ray  belonged  to  the 
club. 

It  was  a  great  success.  The  musicale  itself  was  given 
for  a  charity.  The  large  rooms  were  filled  with  a  fash- 
ionable audience,  appreciative  too.  The  young  man's 
singing  was  delightful.  But  Princess  was  really  the  star  of 
the  occasion.  She  felt  a  little  timid  at  first  when  she  faced 
her  audience,  but  in  a  few  moments  forgot  everything 
except  her  own  delight  in  singing,  and  her  sweet,  clear 


A  FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  153 

voice  had  a  tenderness  in  it  that  touched  every  heart. 
She  had  to  sing  an  encore,  the  guests  would  take  no 
merely  pretty  acknowledgment  of  their  admiration. 

"  It  was  fine,"  said  her  father,  who  had  run  away  from 
business  to  listen,  but  he  would  not  have  missed  it  for  a 
great  deal  of  business.  "  My  little  singing  bird,  you  ac- 
quitted yourself  splendidly." 

Her  eyes  shone  with  tender  radiance.  If  mamma 
could  have  been  here  ! 

The  luncheon  was  an  immense  success.  That  was  for 
the  young  people,  and  gayety  reigned  supreme  with  jests 
and  merry  badinage  and  flashes  of  wit. 

"  Mrs.  Galbraith  is  as  fond  of  young  people  as  Mrs. 
Kenneth,"  said  Violet  Osborne.  "In  fact  I  have  about 
concluded  that  youth  is  admirable,  even  if  it  does  perish 
like  a  flower.     Let  us  be  sweet  while  we  may." 

They  had  lingered  over  the  luncheon,  then  they  had 
gone  back  to  the  music-room  and  were  singing  for  Mrs. 
Galbraith's  pleasure,  when  several  cards  were  sent  in  to 
her. 

"Miss  Amory,"  she  said,  "will  you  not  come  and 
help  me  entertain.  There  are  two  friends  of  yours, — 
Mr.  Lane  and  Mr.  Sevier.  Perhaps  you  might  like  to 
bring  them  out  here." 

"O  yes,"  answered  Pearl,  eagerly. 

There  were  several  elderly  guests.  Pearl  chatted 
agreeably  a  few  moments.  Mr.  Lane's  was  a  short  so- 
ciety call,  but  Mr.  Sevier,  when  he  was  gone,  said,  "  I 
heard  your  cousin,  Miss  Beaumanoir,  was  here.  It  was 
very  unkind  in  Mrs.  Galbraith  not  to  let  us  know  about 
the  musicale.     I  just  heard  of  it  fifteen  minutes  or  so  ago." 

"  O,  we  did  not  expect  to  call  in  the  busy  men.  And 
it  was  unprofessional  talent  for  a  charity." 


154  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  I  should  so  like  to  hear  Miss  Beaumanoir  sing.  She 
has  a  beautiful  voice,  I  have  understood." 

"You  might  be  allowed  to  come  out  to  the  music- 
room,"  said  Pearl,  archly.  "I  think  you  know  most  of 
the  lingerers.  We  are  blooming  alone  as  the  admiring 
throng  are  gone." 

"  It  will  afford  me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure." 

He  followed  her  with  a  sense  of  gratification.  He  had 
hardly  expected  to  see  Miss  Beaumanoir,  but  he  would 
at  least  learn  where  she  was  staying.  Already  she  inter- 
ested him  deeply. 

"A  new  audience,"  announced  Pearl,  with  a  gay  sug- 
gestiveness  in  her  voice.  "The  elders  are  discussing  a 
reception  at  the  British  minister's,  and  as  we  frivolous 
young  people  will  not  be  invited,  there  is  no  use  in  sit- 
ting down  and  bemoaning  our  fate.  Let  us  rather  take 
the  good  the  gods  provide,  and  attend  to  our  own  enter- 
tainment." 

Mr.  Sevier  greeted  the  girls  cordially.  One  young 
fellow,  a  connection  of  Mrs.  Galbraith  remained,  and 
they  had  been  having  a  frolic  of  words  rather  than  music. 
Paul  Fielding  had  been  in  clover  with  a  half  dozen  girls, 
and  now  he  gave  a  comical  expression  of  dismay  when 
Mr.  Sevier  entered. 

He  bowed  to  them  all,  but  crossed  over  to  Princess. 
She  flushed  with  a  certain  pleasure,  and  a  touch  of  em- 
barrassment at  being  thus  singled  out. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  was  not  fortunate  enough  to  be  at  the 
musicale,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "Do  you  know  that 
I  have  never  heard  you  sing,  and  everybody  is  talking 
of  your  lovely  voice.  Music  is  one  of  my  chief  de- 
lights." 

She  could  understand  that  as  she  glanced  up  and  met 


A   FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  155 

his  eyes  suffused  with  a  certain  depth  of  feeling  finer 
than  mere  enthusiasm. 

"You  will  favor  us  again,  Miss  Beaumanoir,"  said 
Pearl,  with  a  dignity  that  was  impressive  as  well  as  amus- 
ing. "There  are  some  entertainments  that  are  continu- 
ous I  believe,  so  let  us  institute  that  order  of  things. 
We  may  never  have  a  better  chance.  I  am  ready  to  sac- 
rifice myself  on  the  altar  of  accompaniments." 

"  O  please  be  good  enough  to  accept  that  offer  and  ac- 
cede to  my  earnest  wishes,"  pleaded  Mr.  Sevier. 

The  girls  stood  around.  To  them  their  cousin's  sing- 
ing was  quite  an  everyday  matter.  She  had  never  made 
an  exclusive  gift  of  her  voice.  At  home  she  had  sung 
with  the  birds.  At  school  she  was  always  ready  to  do 
her  part  without  considering  that  there  was  an  unusual 
quality  that  placed  it  at  the  head  of  ordinary  efforts. 

And  now  the  sweet  voice  floated  on  the  air  like  the 
melody  of  twilight  in  summer,  when  bird  and  bee  are 
hushing  the  tired  day  to  rest.  It  rose  and  fell  with  ex- 
quisite harmony,  a  mysterious  sweetness  that  touched 
the  soul  and  carried  it  along  until  it  seemed  to  find  rest 
in  some  far  land  of  peace. 

The  next  song  was  gayer  but  the  voice  never  lost  its 
refined  melody,  and  as  it  went  dancing  over  forest  brooks 
and  flowery  waysides  where  summer  winds  shook  out 
dainty  ripples,  it  was  still  informed  with  magical  sweet- 
ness. 

There  was  an  interruption. 

"  The  Amory  carriage  has  come  for  the  young  ladies," 
announced  the  servant. 

Mrs.  Galbraith  followed.  "  It  has  been  so  delight- 
ful," she  began.  "I  shall  grow  younger  every  day  that 
I  can  persuade  you  to  spend  with  me ;  so  you  see  what  a 


156  THE  HEIR   OE  SHERBURNE. 

good  work  you  will  do.  The  dial  is  set  back  oftener 
than  we  think,  though  we  cannot  get  rid  of  the  years  as 
easily  as  the  prophet  did.  And  I  do  not  quite  know  how 
to  express  my  obligation  to  you  all " 

"  But  you  have  given  us  a  great  deal  of  delight  as 
well,"  said  Violet  Osborne  in  the  little  pause  she 
made.  "I  am  sure  we  are  all  grateful  for  a  happy  day, 
and  Princess  has  been  drinking  in  the  delicious  draught 
of  admiration " 

"I  am  glad  I  had  something  to  give  you,"  interposed 
Princess,  with  an  exquisite  flush  as  she  took  Mrs.  Gal- 
braith's  hand. 

"  I  ought  to  express  my  pleasure  as  well.  You  have 
given  me  a  great  treat,  only  I  am  afraid  I  shall  want  to 
hear  you  again  and  again.  Are  you  staying  at  the 
Amorys  ?  "  and  Mr.  Sevier's  longing  shone  in  his  eyes. 

"  For  a  week.  I  am  to  be  divided  between  them  and 
Uncle  Stan  wood,"  returned  Princess. 

"  Then  may  I  have  the  privilege  of  calling  upon 
you  ? ' ' 

There  was  the  least  little  inflection  on  the  last  word. 

Princess  gave  the  permission  with  a  quick  breath  as  if 
she  understood  something  she  wished  had  not  been  there, 
and  then  colored  vividly  at  her  own  thought. 

The  judge  came  over  that  evening  to  see  how  it  had 
fared  with  the  luncheon  and  his  pretty  daughter,  though 
he  had  read  all  about  it  in  the  evening  paper. 

Pearl  was  full  of  interest  and  delight.  Her  mother 
saw  with  satisfaction  that  her  beauty  was  not  likely  to 
make  her  envious  of  the  graces  and  attainments  of  others. 
Perhaps  as  Ray  had  once  said,  she  had  been  used  to  it 
all  her  life,  and  while  she  might  be  glad  she  had  it,  she 
was   not   continually  demanding   the  world   should    fall 


A  FLOCK  OF  GIRLS. 


*57 


down  and  worship  her  to  the  exclusion  of  every  one 
else. 

Mrs.  Amory  was  proud  in  a  certain  fashion  of  her 
firstborn,  and  yet  she  would  have  liked  a  more  intellec- 
tual pose,  a  real  interest  in  the  deeper  things  of  life. 
She  understood  very  well  that  she  would  not  have  changed 
her  for  any  of  the  girls  though  Princess  had  immense 
qualities  of  self-sacrifice,  and  as  she  knew  Ray  could  rise 
to  heights  of  heroism,  while  Violet  had  an  unmistakable 
genius.  But  she  was  fond  of  beauty  herself,  and  she 
had  always  been  a  beautiful  woman,  neither  silly  nor  vain. 
And  her  son  was  bright,  an  eager  scholar;  and  her 
pretty  ingenious  Daisy  was  growing  deeper  into  her 
father's  heart  every  day  with  her  peculiar  gifts. 

"There  is  only  one  career  for  Pearl,"  she  had  said  in 
the  summer,  to  Mrs.  Drayton,  "that  is  marriage.  She  is 
not  a  sentimental  girl,  therefore  much  more  likely  to 
make  a  good  marriage.  And  after  all,  marriage  seems 
the  natural  destiny  of  women.  Milly,  were  we  more 
heroic  than  the  girls  of  to-day?     You  were,  I  think." 

"  Perhaps  it  was  circumstances  and  the  greater  sim- 
plicity of  our  lives.  We  used  to  talk  of  aims  and  pur- 
poses, we  were  so  proud  of  Bertram  Carew,  and  oh,  do 
you  remember  what  a  pleasure-loving  fellow  Leonard 
was,  and  how  discouraged  and  disappointed  father  used 
to  feel  ?     And  we  thought  Ned  a  regular  prig." 

"And  I  remember  being  tremendously  vain  of  my 
lovely  golden  hair  and  my  beautiful  complexion.  Really, 
I  cannot  blame  Pearl.  She  has  not  much  personal  van- 
ity, it  is  rather  an  assured  knowledge  of  her  own 
charms.  But  there  is  something  lacking  to  the  young 
people  of  the  present  day,"  and  Mrs.  Amory's  brow 
settled  into  thoughtful  lines. 


158  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"I  am  sure,"  returned  Millicent,  "that  Ray  lived 
nobly  and  wisely  through  a  very  sad  tragedy.  All  of 
life  will  have  a  higher  purpose  to  her.  And  yet  I  should 
not  like  to  see  her  sacrifice  all  her  young  years —  O 
Violet,  I  am  afraid  we  do  think  marriage  the  best  career 
for  a  woman  and  feel  a  little  disappointed  when  she  does 
not  achieve  it." 

"  The  most  satisfactory  career  when  it  is  happy.  And 
many  of  ours  have  been  exceptionally  so.  Even  Ethel 
would  have  made  a  wretched  single  woman,  unless  she 
had  taken  up  art.  She  really  had  no  enthusiasm  for  life. 
I  should  be  sorry  to  see  Pearl  repeat  such  a  destiny." 

"I  do  not  think  Pearl  will.  She  has  a  great  deal  of 
human  love.  I  know  I  felt  quite  disappointed  in  Nora  at 
one  time.  I  should  have  enjoyed  her  going  to  college 
and  distinguishing  herself  in  some  branch.  But  when  I 
see  the  strife  for  the  high  places,  the  ambitious  envyings 
and  heart  burnings,  I  am  glad  she  has  chosen  the  ordinary 
course.  She  is  a  very  happy  wife  and  mother,  and  old 
Mr.  Mallory  simply  adores  her.  Perhaps  when  we  look 
back  there  is  a  glamour  about  our  own  youth  because  we 
lived  it.  Our  children  may  feel  the  same  way  years 
hence." 

"  I  really  do  think  there  was  a  higher  and  purer  atmos- 
phere. There  was  not  quite  such  a  mad  whirl  in  society. 
O,  can  you  recall  your  betrothal  party  Aunt  Lepage  gave? 
How  beautiful  we  thought  the  house,  and  the  function 
really  grand.  And  now  the  homes  are  palaces,  and  the 
entertainments  ape  royalty.  I  am  glad  we  have  a  position 
outside  of  mere  wealth,  and  that  I  do  not  need  to  enter 
the  lists  for  display.  But  I  dread  the  coming  winter  and 
my  beautiful  daughter.  I  must  take  in  the  other  girls  to 
preserve  my  own  mental  poise." 


A   FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  159 

Mrs.  Amory  was  doing  this  quite  to  her  own  satisfac- 
tion. She  found  that  Pearl  had  very  little  desire  to  out- 
shine her  cousins.  She  liked  a  good  time  and  plenty  of 
people  to  enjoy  it  with  her,  in  the  zest  of  youth.  And 
now  she  came  home  proud  of  her  cousin's  success,  and 
full  of  pleasure. 

They  looked  over  the  invitations  that  had  accumu- 
lated. 

"We  can't  take  in  two  for  the  same  night,  when  they 
are  at  the  same  hour,"  she  said,  complainingly.  "  And 
O,  Princess,  we  must  go  to  Mrs.  Rheid's.  I  used  to  have 
an  idea  that  young  men  were  of  more  account  than 
girls,  but  you  would  have  a  dull  time  with  only  one 
sex." 

"O,  we  didn't  at  school,"  declared  Violet. 

"That  was  in  our  salad  days,  when  we  could  dance 
with  each  other  and  did  not  have  to  be  taken  out  to 
dinner  by  a  young  man." 

"But  girls  give  luncheons  and  whist-parties " 

"  And  dove-parties  when  they  are  about  to  be  mar- 
ried." 

"And  you  can't  marry  each  other." 

"Girls  couldn't  afford  it.  The  two  that  agree  are 
seldom  rich  enough." 

"  Have  you  any  special  girl  in  view,  Pearl?  "  asked 
Uncle  Len,  laughingly. 

"  Not  just  yet.  But  if  I  was  Mrs.  Galbraith,  I  would 
want  one.  I  would  have  to  adopt  her,  I  suppose.  Uncle 
Len,  will  you  give  up  Princess  to  her  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  with  a  decisive  shake  of  the  head. 

"  She  has  sung  her  way  into  Mrs.  Galbraith's  heart." 

"She  sang  her  way  into  mine  when  she  was  very 
little." 


160  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Princess  came  and  put  her  arm  around  her  father's 
neck. 

"And  as  she  has  never  grown  very  large."  said  Pearl, 
"  she  has  kept  it." 

"She  has  grown  just  large  enough  never  to  get  out," 
returned  the  fond  father. 

The  next  morning  while  Princess  and  Violet  were  in 
the  studio,  Pearl  lounged  among  the  soft  cushions  in  her 
mother's  room,  doing  nothing  and  looking  very  much  at 
home. 

"Mamma,"  she  said,  "should  you  feel  very  much 
disappointed  if  I  did  not  get  engaged  this  winter?" 

"Disappointed!"  in  a  shocked  tone.  "Why  I  do 
not  want  you — well,  you  are  very  young  and  will  hardly 
know  enough  to  make  up  your  own  mind " 

"  That  is  just  it.  I  do  not  want  the  trouble  of  making 
up  my  mind  or  thinking  about  it  at  all.  I  just  want  a  good 
time  without  considering  whether  this  one  or  that  one  is 
eligible.  There  are  a  good  many  men  very  nice  to  dance 
with  that  one  wouldn't  want  to  marry.  And  life  is  more 
delightful  if  you  don't  have  to  think  about  it.  I  hate  to 
hear  the  girls  balancing  claims  and  saying  mean  things 
about  really  nice  young  men,  who  truly  may  not  care  for 
them  at  all.  So  if  you  shouldn't  mind  having  a  girl  on 
hand  for  two,  maybe  three  seasons " 

"I  shall  not  mind."  Mrs.  Amory  came  and  kissed 
her  daughter  with  all  a  mother's  fervor  and  fear  of  the 
time  when  she  should  want  to  go  out  of  her  life.  "  Have 
your  good  time,  dear,  and  wait  until  you  understand  a 
little  more  of  life." 

"None  of  us  are  in  a  hurry,"  said  Pearl,  placidly. 
"  Ray  thinks  she  will  not  be  married  at  all.  She  is  so 
devoted  to  her  father  and  Aunt  Julia.     Princess  doesn't 


A   FLOCK  OF  GIRLS.  161 

say  much  about  it,  and  we  have  decided  that  as  a  subject 
it  doesn't  interest  us  at  present." 

"  A  very  wise  decision  for  girls  not  out  of  their  teens;  " 
and  the  mother  smiled. 


CHAPTER  XL 

UNWISDOM. 

THERE  was  a  very  bright  gathering  at  Mrs.  Town- 
send's.  They  had  been  discussing  the  art  ques- 
tion, whether  one  required  an  education  to  understand  it, 
or  whether  the  divine  inspiration  was  an  education  in 
itself,  and  whether  all  the  glorious  past  of  art,  with  the 
study  of  technique  was  capable  of  making  an  artist,  with 
the  hard  work  necessary. 

Some  one  said  genius  was  the  capacity  for  interpreting 
the  accumulated  art  of  the  past ;  another  declared  the 
artist  must  draw  his  inspiration  from  nature  and  work  in 
her  creative  spirit  if  he  touched  the  heart  of  the  people. 
Mr.  Murray  was  listening  and  putting  in  a  trenchant  sen- 
tence now  and  then. 

"The  worst  of  you,  Con  Murray,"  said  Mrs.  Town- 
send,  afterward,  "is  that  you  begin  by  a  strong  leaning 
on  one  side  and  rejoice  the  souls  of  that  party,  and  finish 
up  on  the  other,  leaving  a  confusion  of  opinion." 

Sherburne  Beaumanoir  was  always  interested  when 
party  spirit  ran  high  and  most  of  the  guests  were  in  the 
centre  of  the  room.  Miss  Maurice  sat  at  the  tea-table, 
Miss  Sharply,  a  newspaper  woman,  had  the  coffee. 
Two  or  three  tea-drinkers  gravitated  to  Miss  Maurice 
and  made  long  calls.  One  was  an  artist  and  Sherburne 
had  come  to  hate  him,  but  to-night  he  was  in  the  thick 
of  the  fray. 

"I  am  glad  you  are  not  art  mad,"  he  said,  "though 
I  don't  mind  the  rest  having  a  severe  attack.     I  could 

162 


UNWISDOM.  163 

get  scarcely  a  word  with  you  the  other  evening,  and  on 
Tuesday  you  were  out." 

"Yes.  I  had  to  attend  to  a  matter  for  Mrs.  Town- 
send." 

"Are  you  never  alone?  Don't  you  ever  have  any 
time  of  your  own  ? ' '  said  the  young  man  in  a  complain- 
ing tone. 

"  O  yes,"  cheerfully.  "I  read  no  end  of  novels  in 
my  leisure.  I  think  sometimes  I  could  write  a  very  good 
review. ' ' 

"O,  leave  that  for  Miss  Sharply,  with  the  coffee." 

"The  tea  did  not  seem  so  attractive.  I  am  the  sort 
of  stop  gap." 

"I'm  glad  you  came  over  here.  One  can  find  you 
once  in  awhile." 

"I  can  be  found  quite  often  in  my  proper  place," 
with  a  conventional  laugh. 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  put  it  that  way.  And  Mrs. 
Townsend  isn't ' ' 

"  Mrs.  Townsend  isn't  anything  sharp  or  selfish  or  ar- 
bitrary, and  everything  that  is  delightful.  You  shall  not 
say  a  word  against  her." 

"  I  was  not  going  to.  You  do  take  one  up  so.  You 
are  not  as  nice  as  you  used  to  be." 

"Am  I  not?     I  am  growing  older  and  wiser." 

She  was  very  much  engrossed  in  balancing  a  tiny  tea- 
spoon on  the  edge  of  the  Doulton  cup.  When  it  finally 
settled  she  very  carefully  dropped  one  drop  from  another 
teaspoon  with  the  most  delicate  care. 

"Are  you  trying  a  charm?  "  he  inquired. 

"Yes.  Telling  my  fortune."  Another  drop  went 
down  very  softly  and  the  bowl  of  the  spoon  trembled 
slightly. 


164  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"That  is  two  years,"  she  said,  recklessly,  "and  that 
three." 

Down  went  the  spoon. 

"I  cannot  marry  under  three  years,"  with  confident 
emphasis.  "I  am  glad  women  have  outgrown  the  no- 
tion that  they  must  be  married  at  twenty.  I  think  thirty 
would  be  better." 

"  Try  it  for  me." 

"  O,  you  must  try  for  yourself.  It  would  not  be  your 
fortune." 

Sherburne's   attempts  were  ludicrously  futile. 

"Well,  it  doesn't  matter,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  dis- 
gust. "  The  great  thing  is  your  fortune.  And  in  three 
years " 

Mr.  Murray's  mellow  laugh  floated  across  to  them, 
and  there  was  a  sudden  disintegration  of  the  group. 
Several  were  coming  over  for  a  farewell  cup  of  tea. 

"Uncle  Con  has  won  his  point  whatever  it  is,"  said 
Sherburne.  "  Did  you  ever  remark  how  often  he  does 
it?     And  he  isn't  real  aggressive,  either." 

' '  Another  cup  of  your  nice  tea,  if  you  please,  Miss 
Maurice.  And  Miss  Gaines  will  you  indulge — "  said 
one  of  the  guests,  pausing  at  the  table. 

"  If  you  won't  quote  the  old  adage,  for  /  think  tea 
does  inebriate  if  you  drink  enough.  And  brandy  might 
not  if  you  put  a  teaspoonful  in  a  glass  of  water,"  re- 
turned the  lady. 

"Which  side  won?"  asked  Miss  Maurice,  with  a 
smile  that  looked  like  fervent  interest. 

"  O,  it  was  a  sort  of  draw  game,  as  arguments  usually 
are,"  returned  Mr.  Deane.  "The  ardent  believers  in 
inspiration  are  sure  an  artist  must  be  born,  like  a  poet, 
the    steady    going    plodding  people   with   an    immense 


UNWISDOM.  165 

amount  of  ambition  believe  all  things  possible,  and  often 
do  surprise  their  friends  by  their  achievements.  As  for 
me,  I  consider  both  necessary.  Nothing  can  be  done  in 
the  long  run  without  labor  and  perseverance.  Does 
making  a  good  cup  of  tea  come  from  repeated  trials  of 
how  much  tea  to  so  much  boiling  water,  Miss  Maurice  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  Gertrude.  "It  depends  largely  on 
the  quality  of  the  tea,  and  the  taste  of  the  drinker." 

"Then  I  shall  consider  my  taste  a  valuable  accessory 
to  the  enjoyment.  And  the  pourer  of  the  tea — doesn't 
she  come  in  for  some  share  ? ' ' 

"  If  a  young  man  is  very  much  in  love  with  her  he  be- 
lieves he  is  drinking  nectar.  Then  one  can  use  poor 
and  cheap  teas.  The  trouble  is  there  are  so  few  young 
men  in  love  with  one  woman,  that,  as  an  economic  prob- 
lem, it  is  not  a  success." 

"Sherburne,"  said  Uncle  Con,  "have  you  a  real  de- 
light and  fervent  interest  in  the  study  of  medicine  ?  If 
not,  it  will  be  tough  work." 

"  Do  you  think  I  have  no  perseverance?  " 

"Perseverance  and  some  knowledge  might  build  a 
house.     Still  I  have  hopes  of  you.     You  do  not  write 


"But  I  have  translated  from  Latin  and  Greek,  and 
used  my  own  ingenuity,  talent  you  might  call  it,"  said 
the  young  man,  a  little  nettled. 

The  guests  were  beginning  to  disperse.  Those  who 
had  talked  the  most  were  declaring  they  had  had  a  de- 
lightful evening  and  saying,  "Dear  Mrs.  Townsend." 
Others  waited  until  they  were  on  the  sidewalk  to  an- 
nounce that  they  liked  general  topics  better,  there  were 
so  many  opinionated  people  among  artists. 

"Come,  Sherburne,"  said  Uncle  Con. 


166  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

The  young  man  rose  reluctantly.  Gertrude  had 
drained  her  urn  and  declared  herself  bankrupt.  She  said 
good-night  to  some  of  the  guests  who  thought  her  worth 
that  honor. 

Sherburne  leaned  a  little  over  her  shoulder.  "Three 
years,"  he  whispered.  "  I  shall  carry  away  that  comfort 
with  me." 

A  quick  rift  of  color  went  up  her  face.  She  put  out 
her  hand  to  Mr.  Murray  without  looking  at  him,  and 
said  good-night  in  a  more  effusive  manner  than  she  had 
meant  to. 

Mrs.  Townsend  still  looked  fresh  and  spirited.  The 
maid  came  in  to  clear  away  the  things. 

"  Why  didn't  you  send  young  Beaumanoir  to  join  the 
discussion?"  the  elder  lady  asked. 

"  I  do  not  think  he  cared  for  it." 

"  But  he  may  have  some  second-hand  knowledge 
gleaned  from  his  uncle.  Young  people  amuse  me,  they 
consider  their  thoughts  new  discoveries.  Well,  perhaps 
we  all  do.  I  suppose  in  working  over  the  century  old 
ideas  our  circumstances  and  surroundings  do  give  us  new 
points  of  view,  and  that  is  where  talking  does  one  good 
— if  you  can  dispossess  your  mind  of  the  belief  that  our 
elders  did  not  know  it  quite  all.  The  arguments  amused 
me.  But  I  kept  one  eye  on  you,  Gertrude,  and  Mr. 
Murray  kept  one  on  his  nephew.  Do  not  get  sentimen- 
tal over  the  young  man." 

"I  am  not  likely  to,"  returned  Gertrude,  with  a  short 
laugh. 

"And  now  let  us  run  off  to  bed,  or  else  we  shall  get 
no  beauty  sleep." 

Gertrude  did  not  get  any.  She  was  thinking  foolishly 
enough  of  Sherburne  Beaumanoir.     Not  in  any  sense  of 


UNWISDOM.  167 

special  attraction  so  far  as  she  was  concerned.  She  had 
been  amused  all  along  by  his  sudden  fancy.  That  it 
would  die  out  she  felt  assured.  And  yet  it  had  not. 
There  had  been  other  young  men  who  enjoyed  chatting 
with  her.  And  by  this  time  she  had  learned  that  with- 
out special  beauty,  without  either  wealth  or  position  she 
could  marry  very  well.  But  she  did  enjoy  her  present 
life  and  her  liberty. 

For  a  month  back  Sherburne's  attentions  had  been 
rather  pronounced.  Ten  days  before  this  he  had  brought 
tickets  for  her  and  Mrs.  Townsend  to  see  a  new  star  in  a 
play  that  was  to  be  on  only  for  a  week.  The  very  next 
morning  tickets  for  the  next  evening  had  come  from  Mr. 
Murray,  who  would  meet  them  at  the  theatre  later  on  in 
the  evening. 

"  I  do  suppose  the  young  fellow  will  feel  awfully  dis- 
appointed, and  we  have  accepted.  And  Mr.  Murray  is 
an  old  friend  and  a  good  standby.  But  we  must  not 
really  encourage  the  youth  in  this  extravagance,  since  his 
father  has  to  pay  for  it.     Can  we  stand  both  nights  ?  " 

The  play  was  very  well  acted.  Sherburne  was  proud 
and  delighted  and  manly  enough  for  thirty  instead  of 
twenty.  And  the  next  night  they  enjoyed  it  again,  the 
latter  half  with  Mr.  Murray's  criticisms.  Then  he  came 
in  and  had  some  coffee  and  cold  turkey  with  them. 

Since  then  Sherburne  had  really  haunted  her.  Was 
he  in  earnest?  That  startled  her.  Under  any  circum- 
stances it  would  be  unwisdom.  She  liked  his  youth  and 
brightness  and  impetuosity  with  the  young  side  of  her 
nature,  but  such  an  entanglement  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Five  years  from  this  they  would  both  find  out 
their  mistake  if  they  made  one,  which  she  did  not  mean 
to  do.     She  felt  years  older  and  wiser  in  experience  now, 


1 68  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

and  yet  she  had  to  admit  she  had  hardly  seen  as  much 
of  the  world. 

Underneath  all  there  was  a  little  sense  of  triumph.  It 
was  mean  and  unwomanly  she  admitted.  They  had  all 
been  uniformly  cordial  to  her,  and  she  did  like  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Drayton  wonderfully.  Mrs.  Carew  was  more  closely 
occupied  with  her  children  and  her  charities,  and  some- 
how she  stood  a  little  in  awe  of  the  doctor. 

Surely  she  did  not  want  to  triumph  over  sweet,  darling 
Princess,  who  had  so  generously  made  amends  for  one 
overt  look,  one  bit  of  meaning  that  could  not  have  been 
clothed  in  words.  No,  she  would  rather  do  the  bitterest 
penance. 

Down  deep  in  her  heart,  where  it  could  scarcely  make 
a  protest,  there  lay  the  true  reason — a  coquette's  reason. 
Would  Constantine  Murray  care?  Would  he  come  to 
the  rescue  ?    Whether  he  had  any  real  regard  for  her 

It  was  unromantic,  but  she  fell  asleep  over  this  perplex- 
ing question,  and  awoke  unrefreshed.  Then  she  had  a 
very  busy  day. 

"You  look  tired  and  faded,  Gertrude,"  said  Mrs. 
Townsend,  late  in  the  afternoon.  "  Go  out  and  take  a 
good,  brisk  walk.  It  is  not  too  late  for  the  park  if  you 
keep  in  the  traveled  paths." 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  girl.  There  was  a  heavy  feeling 
in  her  head,  as  if  it  might  ache  presently. 

She  walked  swiftly  to  the  park.  The  keen,  fresh  air 
was  bracing.  There  had  been  a  little  snow  and  some  of 
the  clumps  of  shrubbery  had  a  white  half-circle  on  the 
north  side  where  the  sun  had  not  touched  it.  The  ever- 
greens stood  out  fresh  and  courageous.  There  was  a 
cold,  yellow  light  edged  with  greyish  lavender  in  the 
western  sky,  too  dense  for  the  setting  sun  to  peer  through. 


UNWISDOM.  169 

She  had  been  afraid  since  three,  that  Sherburne  Beau- 
manoir  would  drop  in.  If  Mrs.  Townsend  did  not  need 
her  she  would  go  around  to  Mrs.  Kenneth's  in  the  even- 
ing.    It  was  better  to  be  careful. 

"My  dear  Gertrude,"  said  a  voice  that  was  almost 
husky  with  gratification. 

She  stopped  short.  The  "  Gertrude  "  had  an  easy,  fa- 
miliar sound,  as  if  he  was  quite  used  to  it.  And  then  he 
drew  her  hand  through  his  arm  with  an  air  of  posses- 
sion. 

"  How  fortunate  I  am  in  meeting  you.  Are  you  going 
on  any  special  errand  ?  " 

It  was  not  necessary  to  say  he  had  been  on  the  watch 
for  the  last  two  hours ;  and  that  for  some  blocks  he  had 
been  keeping  her  in  sight,  wondering  at  her  flying  steps 
and  whether  her  quest  was  an  important  one. 

"  I  was  out  for  a  constitutional.  I  have  been  writing 
nearly  all  day." 

"  Then  it  is  fortunate  that  I  met  you.  It  will  soon  be 
dusk." 

"And  dinner  time.  So  I  am  not  out  for  long,"  she 
returned,  with  a  brisk  kind  of  gaiety,  and  a  slight  effort 
at  disengaging  her  arm,  but  he  only  held  it  the  tighter. 
She  would  not  emphasize  it  by  any  resistance. 

"  Did  you  dream  of  me  last  night?" 

"I?  No.  I  do  not  spend  my  time  dreaming.  My 
nights  are  for  sleep.  And  when  it  is  so  late  the  nights 
are  none  too  long." 

"I  thought  of  you  before  I  went  to  sleep." 

"  That  was  the  tea.  And  it  was  the  reason  why  you 
dreamed." 

"No,  it  was  not,"  rather  vexed.  "I  mean  the  tea 
was  not.     There  was  a  better  one." 


170  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"What  a  queer  fashion — drinking  tea  and  coffee  be- 
tween whiles,"  in  a  light,  indifferent  tone. 

"It  is  very  social.  In  old  times  people  had  cider,  and 
occasionally  something  more  convivial." 

"  Are  you  going  to  remain  in  the  city  during  the  holi- 
days ?  "  he  asked,  after  a  moment  or  two  of  silence,  in 
which  he  felt  she  was  really  hurrying  his  steps. 

"  O  no.  Mrs.  Townsend  is  due  to  speak  at  some  fair 
or  entertainment  for  a  home  to  shelter  worn-out  and 
broken-down  women.  If  she  loved  individual  women 
more  she  would  have  a  big  house  and  take  them  in.  She 
works  for  them  in  the  aggregate.  She  entertains  them 
largely  for  their  own  pleasure.  And  she  visits  a  few 
friends  out  of  pure  delight  and  gratification.  She  has 
accepted  two  of  these  invitations  to-day,  and  she  kindly 
takes  me  along.  Her  real  friends  are  of  the  delightful, 
lovable  sort.     I  like  them." 

"  I  was  thinking  whether  I  would  stay  or  not.  Father 
insists  upon  our  both  coming  home." 

"  Then  you  must  go ;  "  in  a  rather  peremptory  fashion. 

"  I  shouldn't  if  you  were  going  to  stay." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  You  are  not  of  age 
and  are  still  supposed  to  be  under  the  care  of  pastors 
and  masters  and  fathers  and  all  your  household  rela- 
tions." 

"Why  do  you  not  go  home?  You  are  not  of  age, 
either,"  he  said,  laughingly. 

"Because  my  father  respects  my  business  engagement, 
and  there  are  girls  enough  at  home  without  me.  Then — 
I  am  needed." 

"  I  wish  you  were  not  so  business-y.  You  were  your 
own  charming  self  last  night.  And — why  are  you  in 
such  a  hurry  ?  ' ' 


UNWISDOM.  171 

There  was  a  sound  of  imperious  complaint  in  his  tone. 

"A  constitutional  to  do  you  good  must  be  taken  rap- 
idly. It  is  like  shaking  up  a  bottle  of  medicine.  And 
then — it  is  growing  late." 

"It  is  dark  early,  cloudy  beside." 

"  I  have  ever  so  much  to  say  to  you — "  with  a  pause 
as  if  he  was  not  quite  ready  to  begin. 

"  Keep  it  until  you  come  back  from  Sherburne  House. 
If  it  is  good  it  will  improve  by  age,  if  of  little  account 
you  may  be  glad  you  did  not  say  it." 

"  I  mean  to  say  it,"  he  began,  resolutely,  holding 
back  her  rapid  step.  "It  is  of  great  account  to  me. 
Gertrude,  I  love  you." 

She  might  have  been  wiser  weeks  ago.  Was  she  alto- 
gether blameless  ? 

"Do  you  hear?  I  love  you.  I  want  you  for  my 
wife.  Your  fortune  last  night  said  three  years.  If  you 
will  promise,  I  will  go  to  work  at  once  in  real  earnest.  I 
shall  have  the  strongest,  the  most  splendid  incentive  a 
young  man  can  have.  I  was  fascinated  with  you  that 
day  last  summer,  do  you  remember?  I've  not  seen  any 
one  since,  indeed  you  have  never  been  out  of  my 
thoughts." 

"How  many  were  there  before?"  she  asked,  in  a 
caustic  tone,  giving  a  short,  mocking  laugh. 

"  Gertrude,  you  are  cruel.  There  never  was  any  one 
before." 

"  Not  in  the  two  German  years?  And  German  dam- 
sels are  fascinating  in  their  simplicity." 

He  could  remember  one  who  was  very  fascinating,  a 
professor's  daughter.  A  wise  mamma  had  removed  her 
from  any  further  intimacy  with  the  delightful  American. 
But  he  never  would  have  made  it  a  serious  matter. 


172  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  Why,  I  was  nothing  but  a  boy.  Marriage — betrothal 
never  entered  my  mind.  And  I  am  not  planning  mar- 
riage now.  I  shall  wait  until  I  have  a  certainty  to  offer 
you.  They  all  like  you,  so  you  cannot  urge  that.  Why 
you  icere  the  queen  of  the  entertainment  last  summer. 
I  saw  that  at  a  glance.  Bert  just  adores  you,  and  Mrs. 
Kenneth  enjoys  your  visits  so  much.  And  you  haven't 
any  real  lovers " 

"  Don't  be  too  sure.  Now  give  me  a  chance  to  talk. 
You  are  too  young  to  consider  such  a  serious  subject. 
Even  if  you  do  love,  an  engagement  would  be  the  worst 
possible  step.  It  would  divide  your  interest,  which  you 
do  need  for  your  studies.  If  a  girl  loved  you  she  would 
want  some  attention,  if  she  did  not  have  such  a  true  and 
unselfish  regard  for  you,  she  would  still  demand  the  out- 
ward signs  of  the  inward  grace.  Probably  in  three  years' 
time  you  would  be  mutually  disenchanted.  That  on 
general  principles.  With  me  the  first  objection  is — I  do 
not  love  you.  I  like  you  very  much.  In  my  heart  and 
with  my  tongue  I  do  you  full  justice.  You  are  a  charm- 
ing and  attractive  young  fellow.  But  I  am  years  older 
than  you " 

"Some  months  younger,"  he  interrupted,  caustically. 

"  Older  in  experience,  older  in  heart  and  soul,  older 
in  all  the  sweet  hopes  and  dreams  and  beliefs  that  young 
girls  have,  that  are  so  deliciously  attractive  when  one 
comes  to  love-making.  And  you  do  not  want  the  moth- 
erly affection  that  would  darn  your  stockings  and  sew  on 
your  buttons  and  watch  the  kettle  between  your  kisses 
like  the  wife  Jean  Paul  tells  about.  I  can't  explain  it  to 
you,  but  probably  in  a  few  years  I  should  be  bored  with 
youth." 

"But  I  should  be  growing  older.     And  with  Uncle 


UNWISDOM.  173 

Bert  to  train  me  and  keep  me  up  to  the  best  in  manhood, 
for  although  he  is  exigent  and  sometimes  brings  a  fellow 
up  with  a  jerk,  he  is  grand  and  noble.  O,  don't  you 
see,  Gertrude,  that  I  could  make  a  splendid  future  for  you 
if  you  would  be  my  inspiration.  And  if  you  don't  love 
any  one  else " 

What  if  she  did  ?  The  men  were  quite  given  to  hov- 
ering about  her  and  drinking  either  coffee  or  tea  when 
she  poured  it. 

She  was  silent. 

" Do  you  love  any  one  else?  "  tentatively. 

He  drew  a  long  breath  that  seemed  to  bring  his  heart 
up  to  his  very  throat  and  half  strangle  him. 

"I  have  no  lover  if  that  is  what  you  mean." 

She  meant  her  voice  to  be  cold  and  indifferent,  it  was 
merely  husky. 

"No,  that  is  not  my  question,"  he  flung  out,  half 
angrily.  "  Half  a  dozen  lovers  wouldn't  be  dangerous 
to  my  peace  of  mind  if  there  was  not  one  among  them 
(hat  jou  loved.     Why  can't  you  answer  the  question  ?  " 

"I  am  not  in  love  with  any  one."  Her  voice  was 
cold  and  sharp  now.  "  There  was  a  young  fellow  at 
Robin's  Point  who  used  to  drop  into  sentimentalisms, 
but  he  is  married.  I  am  not  much  given  to  sentiment 
myself.  That  is  where  the  age  of  my  soul  or  my  mind, 
or  whatever  the  inward  guidance  is,  comes  in.  Now  I 
have  told  you  all  about  myself.  Let  us  forget  this  fool- 
ishness as  soon  as  possible,  and  be  pleasant  friends  again, 
or  the  acquaintance  must  end." 

"It  is  not  foolishness  with  me  as  you  will  find,  but  a 
very  real  love. ' ' 

"Then  I  am  more  than  sorry." 

"  And  until  you  do  have  a  lover — oh,  if  you  are  not 


174  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

thinking  of  any  one  else,  can  you  not  give  me  a  little 
thought?  And  if  I  should  not  change  except  to  grow 
manlier " 

Gertrude  Maurice  wondered  what  decisive  thing  she 
could  say.  He  had  an  infinite  trust  and  belief  in  him- 
self. And  how  could  she  extricate  herself  from  this  di- 
lemma and  keep  the  peace  all  around  ? 

"  Listen  to  me,"  she  interposed.  "I  have  no  lover, 
but  I  have  an  ideal — most  women  are  foolish  enough  to 
cherish  one  and  this  is  a  figment  of  the  youth  that  I 
never  had.  And  you  are  not  my  ideal.  But  you  may 
be  the  ideal  of  some  sweeter,  better  girl  who  will  give 
you  the  worship  of  her  whole  soul.  You  will  understand 
better  as  the  years  go  on  and  I  dare  say  some  time  we 
will  laugh  over  this  episode,  and  you  will  be  glad  you 
were  not  led  into  the  folly  of  youthful  engagement  by  a 
designing  woman." 

His  temper  had  been  rising  and  now  he  was  angry, 
hurt  as  well. 

"You  may  laugh,"  he  returned,  stiffly.  "But  I  pur- 
pose to  show  you  that  mine  is  something  better  than 
a  boy's  love.     You  are  not  done  with  me." 

Gertrude  had  no  reply  ready  that  was  forcible  enough 
to  end  the  matter.  They  walked  on  in  silence.  It  was 
quite  dark  now,  except  for  the  street  lamps.  Then 
they  turned  the  corner  and  here  was  the  familiar  stoop. 

"Good-night,"  she  said. 

He  simply  bowed  and  walked  slowly  toward  his 
uncle's.  Somehow  he  was  not  quite  dispirited,  and  now 
that  she  was  away  from  him  her  power  of  conviction 
grew  less.  He  had  a  confused  notion  that  a  woman 
could  learn  to  love  when  she  was  beloved,  and  that  steady 
persistence  would  win  her.     And  he  plumed  himself  on 


UNWISDOM.  175 

a  good  deal  of  mannish  judgment  in  his  selection,  since 
she  was  not  one  of  the  sweet,  gushing,  adoring  sort.  He 
liked  her  brightness  and  that  air  of  the  world  and  wis- 
dom and  experience.  And  a  woman  just  past  twenty 
was  in  the  very  bloom  of  youth. 

As  for  Gertrude  she  comforted  herself  with  the 
thought  that  young  men  do  soon  forget.  She  had  met 
Ward  Garrison  and  his  wife,  and  they  were  still  in  the 
bonds  of  sentiment.  Yet  she  could  not  help  feeling  a 
little  flattered  by  Sherburne's  preference  and  persistence, 
and  the  fact  that  he  had  fallen  in  love  at  first  sight,  and 
kept  his  regard  for  six  months.  How  did  she  know  it 
was  not  the  best  love  of  a  man's  life?  And  she  had  en- 
couraged his  attentions  at  different  times.  They  had 
never  seemed  to  pique  the  one  at  whom  they  were  aimed. 

Twenty  was  not  old,  but  she  seemed  in  her  real  living 
to  have  gone  so  far  beyond  these  young  people  who  kept 
crossing  and  recrossing  her  path,  as  if  her  life  was  in 
some  mysterious  manner  bound  up  with  theirs.  How 
she  had  longed  to  be  one  of  them  that  summer  at  Mel- 
chias.  Perhaps  then  she  would  have  accepted  Sherburne 
Beaumanoir,  if  they  had  all  taken  her  in  cordially. 

O  no,  it  would  have  been  unwisdom  to  lay  a  burthen 
on  his  young  life,  and  she  felt  no  one  would  have  ap- 
proved. But  she  was  very  lonely  to-night.  Once  in  a 
while  the  desire  came  to  her  to  be  very  dear  to  some  one, 
and  she  knew  that  was  having  a  lover  who  suited  her, 
adored  her  supremely.  It  is  one  of  the  dreams  of  youth 
and  then  represents  the  best  thing  in  the  world. 

But  she  roused  herself.  She  had  not  finished  buying 
her  Christmas  things  to  send  home.  She  really  did  not 
care  to  go  herself.  They  were  all  well  and  Virgie  was 
growing    much    stronger,    Agnes    wrote.     And    Agnes 


i;6  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

seemed  so  busy,  so  content,  so  sensible,  fitted  to  her 
niche  without  any  friction.  What  mysterious  power 
beside  love  could  do  this  ? 

Luella  was  improving,  beginning  to  take  a  real  interest 
in  her  studies.  Young  Adams  had  gone  to  Philadelphia 
to  be  brought  up  in  business.  Elsie  was  taking  a  fancy 
to  housekeeping.  And  then  followed  a  list  of  the  most 
needed  things  to  be  sent  in  the  Christmas  box,  good  and 
useful.  She  checked  off  what  she  had  already  pur- 
chased, she  added  a  few  others  to  the  list,  and  resolved 
to  get  them  off  on  the  morrow,  glad  that  it  was  in  her 
power  to  send  out  a  little  delight. 

She  half  envied  the  women  in  homes  who  were  busy 
and  happy,  and  who  were  anchored  to  a  definite  faith 
and  duty.  Amusement  did  not  look  half  as  interesting 
as  it  had  a  few  days  ago.     Its  gayety  was  evanescent. 

"I  must  be  a  good  deal  older  than  my  years,"  she 
sighed. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AND   THEN    CONSIDERATION. 

QHERBURNE  BEAUMANOIR  went  home  as  his 
^  father  desired,  and  he  was  not  much  discomfited  by 
his  first  rejection,  since  every  one  was  delighted  to  see 
him,  and  the  young  girls  about  showed  their  pleasure  and 
adoration  so  plainly.  There  was  nothing  overt  or  for- 
ward in  this,  they  were  to  have  him  only  for  a  short 
time,  and  they  were  not  going  to  waste  a  day  of  it.  No 
one  exactly  expected  to  win  him,  yet  such  a  thing  might 
be  possible.  And  they  wanted  the  pleasure  and  enjoy- 
ment to  talk  over  afterward  with  girlish  interest. 

So  every  day  his  spirits  rose  and  Gertrude  seemed  less 
of  an  impossibility.  When  the  matter  was  really  settled 
he  would  plunge  into  his  studies  with  new  ardor.  Yet  at 
times  there  came  a  curious  misgiving  to  him.  Certain 
theories  in  regard  to  medicine  that  he  had  read  of  and 
listened  to  abroad,  and  Uncle  Carew's  position  at  home 
had  fired  his  enthusiasm.  But  between  the  first  years  of 
hard  study,  oftentimes  quite  disagreeable,  and  that  fine 
position  there  would  be  many  years  of  hard  work.  He 
could  imagine  himself  lecturing  like  Uncle  Carew,  travel- 
ing about  and  addressing  conventions,  but  to  plod  along 
day  and  night  as  Bertram  and  Professor  Kenneth  were 
doing  from  an  enthusiasm  he  did  not  understand, 
seemed  irksome.  Even  his  cousin,  Ned  Beaumanoir, 
cared  little  for  pleasure  and  less  for  admiration.  But  he 
should  want  the  world  to  look  at  what  he  did.     He  could 

177 


178  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

not  be  content  to  hide  his  light  under  a  bushel  and  wait 
until  the  discrimination  of  the  world  overturned  the 
bushel. 

And  he  measured  these  sweet,  eager,  simple-hearted 
girls  who  knew  so  little  out  of  their  narrow  round,  with 
the  woman  of  the  world,  much  to  their  detriment,  and  it 
seemed  to  set  her  on  a  higher  pedestal.  She  had  a  cer- 
tain style  if  she  was  not  really  beautiful  like  his  Cousin 
Pearl.  Then  her  dark  eyes  and  her  great  masses  of 
light  hair  gave  her  a  distinguished  look.  She  was  so 
ready  to  talk,  she  said  so  many  bright  things,  and  some- 
times a  bit  of  real  wit  flashed  out.  She  had  a  knack  of 
bringing  out  other  people  when  she  made  an  effort,  and 
harmonizing  incongruous  elements.  Mrs.  Townsend  had 
found  her  of  great  service  in  this  respect.  Gertrude  had 
taken  it  up  as  one  of  her  duties,  and  oftentimes  it 
amused  her,  quite  as  if  she  was  trying  experiments  with 
different  natures. 

Sherburne  thought  he  should  want  a  wife  that  the 
world  could  admire,  like  Aunt  Millicent.  Mamma  and 
Aunt  Lyndell  were  rather  too  devoted  to  family  matters 
and  the  children,  and  at  present  the  young  man's  mind 
had  not  turned  to  domesticity.  So  he  found  in  Gertrude 
many  of  the  things  he  believed  suited  to  his  needs. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Townsend  and  her  secretary  made 
their  visits,  and  there  followed  a  call  to  Boston.  Sher- 
burne found  the  city  rather  dull,  for  he  had  not  made 
many  real  society  friends.  Uncle  Bert  had  protested 
against  this. 

"  You  cannot  be  up  late  at  night  and  have  your  brains 
in  a  whirl  of  excitement  and  study  at  the  same  time.  In 
a  certain  manner  I  am  answerable  to  your  father  for  your 
progress." 


AND    THEN  CONSIDERATION.  179 

Uncle  Con  had  been  a  little  wary  as  well.  There  were 
many  temptations  in  the  city  for  an  attractive  young 
man,  who  as  yet  had  not  learned  the  real  value  of  money 
and  was  not  earning  it  himself,  therefore  had  no  right  to 
fritter  it  away.  They  went  to  lunch  together  occasion- 
ally, and  now  Sherburne  dropped  into  Uncle  Con's 
rooms, — he  had  not  yet  set  up  his  housekeeping  scheme. 
He  thought  once  or  twice  it  would  be  a  grand  thing  to 
have  Mrs.  Townsend  come  and  matronize  a  party  of 
girls,  he  was  so  fond  of  giving  pleasure.  But  the  girls  he 
wanted  most  seemed  to  be  engrossed  with  their  own 
home  duties  and  pleasures,  even  Princess,  who  had  writ- 
ten that  she  should  give  most  of  this  year  to  her  mother. 
Was  Princess  still  a  little  hurt  that  he  had  a  tender  regard 
for  another?  Somehow  her  letters  had  been  rather  seri- 
ous of  late.  He  was  glad  she  was  having  some  gayety  in 
Washington. 

As  for  himself  he  had  hesitated  a  little  at  taking  the 
young  life  he  wanted  in  his  own  keeping  altogether. 
Princess  might  come  and  find  a  lover  and  happiness  and 
go  her  way.  Gertrude  could  not  go  her  way  if  she  found 
dissatisfactions.  He  had  a  man's  belief  that  he  could 
make  her  love  him,  but  he  knew  alas  !  that  love  and 
happiness  were  not  always  synonymous  in  the  long  run. 
He  had  seen  too  much  of  life  and  waited  too  long  to 
throw  away  his  chance  on  uncertainty. 

Gertrude  was  attractive.  She  could  win  the  regard  of 
a  younger  man.  She  had  many  charming  society  ways. 
And  though  when  they  first  met  she  betrayed  a  quick 
rush  of  delight  that  thrilled  him,  the  very  next  time  she 
was  quite  distant  and  really  indifferent.  He  was  waiting 
for  some  sign,  some  little  betrayal  of  self  that  girls  nearly 
always  made.     Mrs.  Townsend's  half  advice,  half  com- 


180  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

ment    had    weighed    with    him    even    more    than     he 
thought. 

"She  is  very  young  compared  to  yourself,"  the  lady 
had  said,  "I  think  she  ought  to  have  some  chance  to 
know  her  own  mind.  On  the  other  hand,"  laughingly, 
"  I  suppose  you  are  aware,  Con  Murray,  that  many  a  girl 
would  be  proud  to  capture  such  an  obdurate  campaigner 
as  yourself.  But  you  are  not  quite  old  enough  to  be 
satisfied  with  that  sort  of  admiration." 

So  he  had  watched  her  narrowly.  Sometimes  she  felt 
it  and  really  flirted  with  whoever  happened  to  be  nearest, 
made  herself  charming  and  interesting  to  some  one  of 
note.  There  might  have  been  lovers  in  one  or  two  in- 
stances, and  then  all  his  regard  rose  in  a  flame,  but  she 
turned  cold  as  if  she  understood.  She  evidently  was  not 
on  the  lookout  for  a  chance  to  marry.  He  knew  girls 
and  women  pretty  well. 

And  as  he  and  Sherburne  sat  over  a  dainty  little  sup- 
per they  talked  round  to  Mrs.  Townsend. 

"Do  you  know  when  they  are  coming  home?"  the 
young  fellow  asked  eagerly.  "  Or  are  they  going  all 
round  the  world  now  that  they  have  started  ? ' ' 

The  last  was  uttered  in  a  resentful  manner  as  if  he  had 
some  interest  at  stake. 

"I  had  a  note  from  them  this  morning.  I  had  asked 
Mrs.  Townsend  for  the  report  of  a  meeting.  But  no 
mention  was  made  of  their  return." 

"  I  suppose  Miss  Maurice  always  writes  the  letters  ?  " 
was  the  next  comment. 

"O  no,  not  always.  But  reports  and  articles  of  vari- 
ous kinds." 

"  I  think  she  ought  to  have  some  credit.  Uncle  Con, 
don't  you  consider  her  a  rather  unusual  girl  ?  " 


AND   THEN  CONSIDERATION.  181 

"There's  a  good  deal  of  work  done  in  this  world  in 
which  the  party  of  the  first  part  doesn't  get  the  credit. 
I  have  been  there  myself,"  said  Uncle  Con,  drily. 

"I  wonder — she  could  do  something  better  than  that. 
Seems  to  me,  Uncle  Con,  you  might  find  a  place  for  her. 
She  is  ever  so  much  brighter  than  the  average  girl." 

"  I  think  her  place  a  very  good  one.  It  may  not 
afford  scope  for  all  her  talents,  but  she  has  the  protection 
of  a  woman  of  the  world,  who  is  an  excellent  friend  to 
any  young  girl.  And  she  sees  a  good  deal  of  society. 
Her  duties  are  not  very  onerous." 

Sherburne  mused  a  little.  Yes,  she  would  be  safer 
there  the  next  three  or  four  years,  and  after  all  one  didn't 
want  the  woman  he  intended  to  marry  to  be  running 
round  the  world.  But  he  wondered  if  Mrs.  Townsend 
really  appreciated  her  ! 

"The  Kenneths  like  her  so  much.  Bertram  is  quite 
gone  on  her."  He  laughed  a  little  but  his  face  had  a 
momentary  flush  like  a  rose. 

"  Are  you  there — often  ?  " 

"  Quite  often.  Uncle  Bert  is  rather  queer  about 
some  things,  going  out  I  mean,  but  he  is  always  sure  I 
am  in  good  company  there,  and  at  Mrs.  Townsend' s." 

"  You  hear  a  good  deal  of  theoretical  nonsense  talked 
at  Mrs.  Townsend's.  Experienced  people  can  pick  out 
the  grains  of  wheat  from  among  the  chaff." 

"O,  I  don't  care  much  for  the  nonsense.  I  like 
talking  to  Miss  Maurice  better,"  said  the  young  fellow, 
naively. 

Uncle  Con  watched  him  as  he  deftly  peeled  an  orange. 
He  suddenly  recalled  many  little  events  that  seemed  to 
betray  the  boy's  fancy — was  he  anything  more  than  a 
boy  at  twenty?     He  had  the  making  of  a  splendid  man, 


1 82  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

he  was  fine  and  attractive  now  in  the  body,  intelligent 
and  capable  of  making  his  mark  in  the  world.  It  would 
not  do  to  have  all  this  thrown  away  on  a  love  affair  and 
set  himself  back  years. 

But  Gertrude — how  would  she  look  at  it  ? 

It  was  undeniable  that  there  was  a  charm  in  kindred 
youth.  They  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  each  other.  He 
kept  revolving  the  subject  in  his  mind  as  he  tried  to  draw 
out  the  younger's  real  sentiments  with  his  air  of  gay  in- 
difference, but  Sherburne  was  wary  and  kept  to  general 
terms.  Still  youth  is  indiscreet  in  its  very  honesty  and 
courage,  and  Uncle  Con  was  aware  of  something  that 
had  missed  his  discerning  eyes. 

What  if  Gertrude  really  cared  for  him  ?  He  had  an 
idea  that  point  was  still  an  uncertain  quantity.  Sher- 
burne would  have  been  more  elated.  Still  it  was  evident 
he  cared  for  her  to  the  verge  of  love.  But  then  it  was  a 
boy's  love. 

He  was  away  for  two  or  three  days,  when  Mrs.  Town- 
send  returned.  He  came  in  town  at  noon,  and  went 
around  there  in  the  evening,  leaving  piles  of  work  and 
letters  on  his  desk.  And  to-night  Gertrude  was  at  the 
coffee-table,  and  it  seemed  to  her  people  had  a  sudden 
and  insane  fancy  for  tea.  Sherburne  Beaumanoir  sat 
beside  her,  and  Mrs.  Langham  was  discoursing  on 
Wagner  to  the  young  people.  It  was  a  rather  musical 
evening. 

Gertrude  was  surprised  to  see  Sherburne  walk  in  jaun- 
tily and  self-possessed. 

"  I've  ever  so  many  messages  for  you,"  he  began,  in  a 
soft,  clear  tone,  that  disarmed  her.  "  How  long  you 
stayed  away  ?  Bertram  is  quite  heart-broken,  and  Mrs. 
Kenneth  wondering.     Princess  sent  oceans  of  love." 


AND    THEN  CONSIDERATION.  183 

"Thank  you,"  she  returned,  gravely.  He  had  the 
aplomb  of  a  society  man. 

When  two  people  had  gone  away,  he  bent  over  to  her, 
and  said  in  a  low  tone  : 

"I  have  accepted  your  proffer.  Let  it  be  friendship 
between  us." 

Then  Mrs.  Langham  had  come.  Sherburne  sat  smil- 
ing and  supremely  happy.  Friendship  would  be  the 
golden  key  of  entrance  again,  and  he  was  wise  enough  to 
accept  it  for  the  present.  And  then  Mr.  Murray  marched 
in. 

"  You  are  just  the  person  we  wanted  to  settle  a  diffi- 
culty," said  Mrs.  Townsend.  "Come  over  here  at 
once.  It  is  whether  Nordau  has  been  just  to  Wagner. 
Of  course  we  are  all  fascinated  with  the  operas,  and  peo- 
ple in  love  with  one  quality  may  not  be  good  judges  of 
all.     Love  does  make  one  narrow-minded." 

"  O,  I  must  go  and  hear  what  Mr.  Murray  has  to  say," 
and  Mrs.  Langham  left  them. 

"  We  ought  to  go  too,"  said  Gertrude,  half  rising. 

"  O,  we  can  hear  all  we  want  to  over  here.  And  I 
have  so  much  to  say.  Was  your  journey  pleasant  ?  You 
can't  think  how  I  wanted  to  see  you  again." 

Gertrude  glanced  toward  the  group  of  talkers.  Mr. 
Murray's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her,  and  with  a  curious 
severity  that  roused  a  rebellious  spirit  within  her.  Part 
of  it  was  for  the  argument  some  one  had  advanced,  but 
she  did  not  know  that,  and  resented  it  with  a  little  mo- 
tion like  a  toss  of  the  head,  and  smiled. 

"  Yes.  You  needn't  look  so  incredulous.  It  is  the 
people  that  make  a  place  for  me.  It  has  been  a  dreary 
week.  I  couldn't  half  study.  But  now  I  am  going  at  it 
in  good  earnest." 


1 84  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  Is  that  a  perfectly  new  remark?  We  are  supposed 
and  expected  to  bring  out  our  best  original  thought  here 
on  Saturday  night,  and  it  seems  as  if  I  had  heard  it  be- 
fore." 

He  laughed.  "We  cannot  reiterate  useful  and  per- 
tinent thoughts  too  often." 

"  You  must  put  it  into  practice." 

"I  am  going  to  do  that.  You  will  see.  I  shall  work 
for  your  commendation." 

"You  must  burn  midnight  oil,"  she  said,  senten- 
tiously. 

The  eyes  were  still  upon  her.  She  felt  them  now  and 
flushed,  and  the  listener  not  knowing  the  cause,  hugged 
it  to  his  heart  as  an  omen. 

"We  are  worse  than  the  foolish  virgins,  we  have 
neither  lamps  nor  oil,"  he  commented  with,  a  soft,  de- 
lighted laugh.  "Sometimes  I  get  sleepy  over  the  prosy 
old  tomes  and  then  I  think  of  my  inspiration." 

She  made  no  answer  to  that. 

"  Do  you  like  medicine  ?  " 

"  What  a  question  to  ask  a  grown  person.  Childhood 
has  to  be  martyred  on  the  shrine." 

"O,  I  meant  the  profession — you  knew  that." 

"  I  shouldn't  want  to  study  it  myself.  I  can't  under- 
stand a  woman's  desire  to  be  a  physician." 

"A  woman  ought  never  be  anything  but  the  centre 
of  a  home.  Men  are  put  into  the  world  for  the  hard 
work." 

"I  have  seen  some  women  work  pretty  hard  in  the 
home  centre.  And  there  are  more  women  than  men,  so 
every  one  cannot  marry.  However,  women  can  keep 
house  together." 

"  But  you  will  admit  they  are  happier  married." 


AND    THEN  CONSIDERATION.  185 

Why  must  they  keep  skirmishing  around  the  edge  of 
sentiment  ?     She  rejoined,  sharply 

"  There  is  a  good  deal  of  infelicity." 

"Then  it  is  not  the  truest  or  best  love,"  said  the  wise 
young  philosopher.  "Don't  you  suppose  I  should  use 
every  effort  to  make  you  happy  if  I  were  fortunate 
enough  to  win  you  ?  ' ' 

His  tone  was  pleading,  his  eyes  shone  with  a  softened 
light. 

"  If  you  cannot  keep  to  friendship  our  pact  is  broken," 
she  answered,  decisively. 

"I  mean  to.  But  I  cannot  help  thinking  of  what 
might  make  me  supremely  happy,  even  if  I  have  to  put 
it  in  the  far  future.  There  they  have  settled  Wagner 
and  are  coming  for  coffee.     O  Uncle  Con  !  " 

He  rose  as  he  spoke,  but  the  satisfied  glow  still  lighted 
up  his  face  and  shone  in  his  fine  eyes.  He  was  an  at- 
tractive fellow,  with  all  the  charms  of  youth. 

Gertrude  was  smiling  and  amiable,  but  inwardly  re- 
sented the  questioning  look  in  the  elder's  eyes. 

Others  followed.  Some  one  began  to  play,  the  guests 
hovered  about  the  tea  and  coffee-tables.  In  the  pauses 
Gertrude  exerted  herself  to  be  bright  and  chatty.  Sher- 
burne lingered  within  her  radius,  but  there  was  no  further 
chance  for  asides.  He  did  not  much  mind,  for  he  was 
quite  convinced  that  his  evening  had  been  a  success  in 
reestablishing  a  bridge  over  which  friendship  might  one 
day  cross  to  love,  meanwhile  keeping  to  a  discreet  bound- 
ary. 

"Come,"  Uncle  Con  said,  as  the  guests  were  begin- 
ning to  depart. 

The  good-nights  were  graciously  formal.  Gertrude 
felt  strangely  angry  at  herself. 


1 86  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Mr.  Murray  and  his  nephew  walked  to  the  corner  where 
Sherburne  halted. 

"I  will  go  on  with  you,"  the  senior  said.  "Sher- 
burne," after  a  pause,  "  are  you  falling  in  love  with  Miss 
Maurice?" 

"I  am  not  falling,"  with  a  sort  of  happy  emphasis ; 
"  only  as  a  man  goes  on  and  on " 

"It  is  foolish  business,  and  you  are  too  young.  And 
she?" 

Sherburne  did  not  answer.     He  was  a  little  indignant. 

"You  know  it  must  be  years  before  you  can  marry. 
To  keep  a  girl  waiting  so  long  is  a  hard  thing,  harder 
even  on  her.  And  has  Miss  Maurice  consented  ?  You 
looked  like  lovers  to-night." 

"  Did  we  ?  "  Sherburne  was  mollified  by  that  and  the 
smile  sounded  in  his  voice.  "I  love  her  very  much, 
Uncle  Con.  I  really  fell  in  love  with  her  that  day  at 
Aunt  Millicent's  luncheon.  She  was  the  most  attractive 
girl  there.  And  that  evening  at  the  hotel  settled  it.  I 
know  I  shall  have  to  wait " 

"And  has  she  really  accepted  you?"  Uncle  Con's 
voice  verged  to  irritability,  but  the  enthusiastic  lover  did 
not  remark  it. 

"She  will  wait — "  had  she  really  promised  to  wait? 
"We  are  to  be  friends,  and  she  is  younger  than  I  am." 

"  Then  it  is  not  a  settled  engagement  ?  " 

"Well — it  is  an  understanding."  He  could  venture 
upon  that.  She  had  said  she  could  not  marry  him,  but 
then  girls  often  said  what  they  did  not  mean,  and  re- 
pented and  yielded.  When  she  saw  how  in  earnest  he 
was  in  everything —  "  Yes,"  he  added,  "  an  understand- 
ing; and  we  can  wait." 

Was  there  any  use  of  arguing  ?     There  had  been  head- 


AND    THEN  CONSIDERATION.  187 

strong  impulses  in  his  own  life  and  in  the  boy's  father. 
And  just  now  Sherburne  was  not  likely  to  listen  to  advice. 

''Well,"  he  exclaimed,  after  a  silence,  "don't  set 
your  heart  too  strongly  on  it.  It  is  unwise  and  I  am 
sorry  for  your  sake  that  it  has  happened.  Good-night  j  " 
and  he  turned  off  to  hail  a  car. 

"Poor  old  fellow!"  thought  the  enthusiastic  young 
lover.  Gertrude  had  been  surprised,  but  not  cold  or 
formal,  and  his  sanguine  temperament  took  much  for 
granted. 

Mr.  Murray  was  a  good  deal  perplexed.  He  could 
see  that  they  would  be  greatly  annoyed  at  home,  and  he 
was  afraid  the  two  interests  would  conflict,  study  getting 
the  worst  of  it  for  awhile.  It  certainly  was  foolish  on 
Miss  Maurice's  part.  Dear  little  Princess,  what  would 
she  say  to  such  a  denouement  ? 

And  himself?  He  had  studied  Gertrude  more  than 
she  was  aware,  more  deeply  than  he  had  been  aware  of 
himself.  He  was  quite  used  to  analyzing  motives  and 
feelings  and  formed  pretty  correct  judgments  after  his 
years  of  experience.  If  he  had  followed  out  his  impulse, 
he  would  have  insisted  more  than  a  year  ago  that  Ger- 
trude should  marry  him,  and  set  himself  about  making 
her  happy  with  the  same  earnestness  and  persistency  that 
had  won  for  him  some  of  the  other  prizes  of  life.  But  it 
seemed  unmanly.  He  did  not  want  to  wrest  any  woman's 
love  roughly  away  from  her,  he  wanted  it  to  be  a  free 
gift.  Mrs.  Townsend's  need  had  come  in  opportunely. 
Gertrude  should  see  a  little  of  the  world. 

But  he  felt  with  the  sort  of  prescience  that  lends  love 
a  keen,  mysterious  insight  that  he  could  make  her  happy, 
and  that  while  she  would  not  be  one  of  the  silly,  adoring 
women,  or  one  of  the  exigent  ones,  she  could  throw  just 


1 88  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

the  charm  he  wanted  around  Ins  home.  He  was  almost 
ashamed  of  his  desire  for  something  young  and  bright, 
and  yet  at  heart  he  would  never  grow  old.  And  she 
would  be  a  mate  for  any  time  of  life. 

Would  it  be  worth  while  to  try  ?  Sherburne  would  not 
come  to  the  full  richness  of  manhood  in  years.  If  all 
things  went  right  with  him  he  would  make  a  fine,  strong, 
admirable  man.  Then  in  this  prime  the  sparkle  would 
have  evaporated  from  the  cup  of  love  and  there  would 
be  only  the  sober  draught.  He  would  love  again.  He 
would  doubtless  have  more  than  one  fancy  before  he 
settled  to  that  highest  regard. 

If  Gertrude  loved  him,  and  if  she  was  willing  to  wait, 
that  would  settle  it.  But  he  wanted  something  more  than 
a  peradventure  to  satisfy  him.  And  he  was  man  enough 
for  Gertrude's  sake  to  smooth  some  of  the  thorns  out  of 
their  path.  His  love  was  not  altogether  selfish  if  he  was 
so  much  nearer  the  end  of  things.  This  would  be  the 
end  for  him.  All  the  rest  of  his  years  he  would  be  the 
jolly  bachelor  uncle. 

Yet  he  had  a  dozen  minds  before  he  sauntered  up  the 
street  rather  late  on  Sunday  afternoon.  Mrs.  Townsend 
he  knew  was  to  spend  some  hours  and  dine  with  a  dear 
friend.  If  he  should  find  Sherburne  there  that  would 
answer  his  question. 

Gertrude  had  said  she  would  rather  stay  at  home  and 
read,  in  reply  to  Mrs.  Townsend's  friendly  suggestion 
that  she  should  go  to  the  Kenneths.  Then  she  informed 
the  maid  that  she  would  not  be  at  home  to  Mr.  Beau- 
manoir  if  he  should  call.  He  would  hardly  be  likely  to 
venture  on  Sunday,  but  his  daring  of  last  night  had  sur- 
prised her.  She  felt  very  much  dissatisfied  with  herself. 
Some  positive  step  must  be  taken  to  end  the  matter. 


AND    THEN  CONSIDERATION.  189 

In  the  midst  of  her  cogitations  she  was  surprised  by  a 
caller  she  had  not  thought  of. 

"Mrs.  Townsend  has  gone  out,"  she  began,  rather 
confusedly.     Should  she  ask  him  in  ? 

"  I  did  not  want  to  see  her,  but  you."  He  put  down 
his  hat  with  an  air  of  resolution,  and  seated  himself  in  his 
easy,  at-home  manner,  for  he  was  always  at  home  here. 

For  once  Miss  Maurice's  readiness  quite  forsook  her. 
She  made  some  faint  comments  on  the  day,  which  was 
very  lowering  now,  with  indications  of  snow,  then  she 
explained  Mrs.  Tovvnsend's  visit,  and  asked  his  opinion 
of  a  new  novel. 

The  opinion  was  given  somewhat  at  length.  There 
were  several  strictures  in  it  with  which  she  did  not  agree, 
and  this  turned  on  the  question  of  a  long  engagement 
begun  in  early  youth. 

Was  she  justifying  her  own  step  ? 

They  always  found  so  many  subjects  of  conversation, 
even  if  they  disagreed  on  half  of  them.  A  very  ridicu- 
lous idea  had  come  into  her  mind.  She  had  entertained 
a  vague  fancy  through  the  day  that  she  might  ask  Mrs. 
Carew  to  use  her  influence  in  some  quiet  manner,  to  sug- 
gest or  persuade  Sherburne  that  he  had  no  time  for  such 
romantic  folly  as  falling  in  love.  Then  the  family  could 
not  think  she  was  leading  him  on.  She  had  a  half-fear 
that  she  could  not  quite  manage  him. 

And  now  she  wondered  what  a  man's  influence  would 
be ;  a  kindly,  wise,  experienced  man,  who  certainly  would 
have  his  nephew's  welfare  at  heart.  She  remembered  the 
night  she  had  laid  her  petty  troubles  before  him,  and  it 
had  brought  forth  the  half  proposal  of  marriage  that  she 
had  quenched  immediately,  because  it  looked  almost  as 
if  she  had  been  begging  for  it. 


190  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

She  raised  her  eyes.  He  was  studying  her  intently. 
Her  face  was  scarlet.  She  could  have  cried  with  vexa- 
tion.    Then  she  recalled  the  look  of  last  night. 

He  rose,  though  he  was  sitting  not  far  from  her,  and, 
with  a  step  or  two,  took  her  hand  that  was  so  spiritless 
she  felt  ashamed  of  it. 

"  Gertrude — "  his  tone  was  almost  fatherly,  "will  you 
answer  me  a  question  truly  ?  Are  you  engaged  or  even 
partially  engaged,  to  Sherburne  Beaumanoir?" 

She  wanted  to  spring  up  and  snatch  away  her  hand, 
and  answer  him  indignantly,  to  triumph  over  his  mean 
suspicion.  But  she  did  not  do  it  soon  enough.  She 
could  not  trust  her  voice.  She  was  glad  he  had  asked. 
O  what  made  her  so  contradictory,  so  uncertain  to  her- 
self? 

"  Gertrude — "  he  so  often  said  Miss  Maurice.  Some- 
thing in  the  tone  touched  her,  thrilled  her. 

"O  no,  no,"  she  said,  with  a  protest  that  filled  him 
with  joy.      "  O,  will  you  help  me  to — to " 

"I  shall  be  at  your  service  for  any  assistance  in  my 
power — even  if  my  surmise  had  been  true." 

"  How  good  you  are."  She  knew  then  he  did  not  care 
about  her  in  that  manner,  so  she  could  talk  freely.  Had 
Sherburne  made  a  confidant  of  him? 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  think — that  I  have  led  him 
on.  >  Perhaps  I  have  been  to  blame.  But  I  did  not 
imagine  until  he  spoke — he  seems  so  young,  and  I  tried 
not  to  see  him  alone  when  I  suspected  what  might  be 
possible.  O,  do  you  suppose  it  is,  or  may  be  a  lasting 
regard  ? ' ' 

Her  voice  was  tremulous  with  fear  and  emotion. 

Had  he  any  right  to  come  between  these  young  souls  ? 
He  knew  •  youthful  passions  were  evanescent,  oftentimes 


AND    THEN  CONSIDERATION.  191 

unwise,  but  here  and  there  one  redeemed  the  unwisdom 
by  the  faithfulness  of  the  regard. 

"  If  you  love  him —  That  will  settle  the  present  ques- 
tion for  you ' ' 

"But  I  do  not,  you  see,"  she  answered,  quickly.  "I 
am  not  very  impressionable,  I  think,  or  romantic.  I  can 
see  all  the  trouble  it  would  make  for  Sherburne,  even  if  I 
could  comfort  him  with  an  enthusiastic  love.  But  I  am 
afraid  I  should  say — 'I  told  you  this  would  be  so'  " — and 
she  gave  a  little  agitated  laugh  that  was  far  from  any  sense 
of  amusement,  while  her  eyes  were  humid. 

He  wanted  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  comfort  her,  let 
her  cry  a  little  in  girlish  fashion,  but  he  refrained  with  a 
strong  effort,  because  he  knew  in  the  end  he  should 
win. 

"You  see,"  she  began,  hurriedly,  when  she  had  found 
her  voice,  "  if  I  had  a  fortune  of  my  own,  or  some  high- 
up  connections  that  would  be  of  an  advantage  to  him, 
and  did  love  him  even  a  little,  it  would  not  be  so  bad. 
But  there  are  really  no  extenuating  circumstances,"  with 
a  humorous  sound  that  betokened  self-possession.  "I 
do  not  want  to,  and  could  not  do  it.  Only  I  should  be 
sorry  to  make  ever  such  a  little  break  in  his  life.  He 
ought  to  go  on  with  his  career  and  let  girls  and  love  alone 
for  the  next  half-dozen  years.  I  should  be  bored  think- 
ing continually  what  was  best  for  another  person,  com- 
forting him  in  discouragements,  spurring  him  up  when  he 
flagged  a  little.     I  am  very  selfish,  am  I  not?  " 

"  I  do  not  call  that  selfishness.  There  are  cases  where 
one  seems  called  upon  to  devote  one's  life  and  aims  for 
another,  but  this  does  not  appear  so  urgent.  And  you 
are  quite  ready  to  be  forgotten,  to  see  him  transfer  his 
affections  to  some  one  else,"  half  jealously. 


192  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  It  would  not  trouble  me  at  all.  Yet  I  should  con- 
sider it  quite  as  foolish  in  him." 

"And  you  remember  he  is  a  handsome  fellow.  At 
five  and  twenty  he  will  be  a  fascinating  man." 

"  And  at  five  and  twenty  I  shall  feel  half  a  century  old 
and  as  if  I  were  his  grandmother." 

Both  laughed  then,  and  they  went  over  to  the  sofa  and 
sat  down  side  by  side.  She  had  not  felt  so  thoroughly 
friendly  since  they  were  at  Melchias.  It  was  very  pleas- 
ant to  have  her  so  near,  and  if  she  felt  old  within,  there 
was  enough  left  to  rejuvenate  her.  He  would  not  have 
minded  if  she  had  looked  every  day  of  five  and  twenty, 
but  he  had  to  confess  she  did  not,  and  he  also  confessed 
in  his  secret  soul  that  he  loved  youth  with  all  its  incon- 
sistencies. 

The  maid  tapped  at  the  door. 

"  Shall  I  make  the  tea?  "  she  asked. 

"  You  will  have  a  cup  of  tea?  "  and  Gertrude  turned 
inquiringly  to  Mr.  Murray.  "I  have  done  the  honors 
before,"  laughing  and  coloring  a  little. 

"I  shall  be  much  pleased  to  take  tea  with  you,"  he 
made  answer. 

"There  is  one  guest,"  she  whispered  to  Mary.  "  Set 
out  the  tea-table  for  two." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A   LOVER   ON    THE   WINNING    SIDE. 

IT  was  very  pretty  and  cozy  down  here  by  the  window 
and  the  corner.  The  table  would  have  answered  for 
three.  She  and  Mrs.  Townsend  often  used  it  for  break- 
fast. They  could  dispense  with  the  maid,  and  discuss 
any  subject  without  hesitation.  Gertrude  dismissed  her 
now. 

She  made  a  charming  hostess,  though  the  color  kept 
coming  and  going,  and  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  her 
look  so  really  pretty.  Her  manners  had  all  the  dainty 
society  touches  that  she  took  to  so  naturally.  They  talked 
on  indifferent  subjects,  she  relating  some  bright  incidents 
of  last  winter,  and  describing  people  they  had  met  with 
graphic  touches  and  much  discrimination. 

She  would  be  a  very  pleasant  companion  for  the  rest 
of  his  life,  and  he  could  give  her  much  delight  and  com- 
fort. As  he  had  said  to  Princess  he  could  be  quite  a 
foolish  lover  when  he  let  himself  go,  and  he  was  not  so 
old  but  that  he  wanted  a  great  deal  of  love,  and  felt  ca- 
pable of  giving  a  great  deal  in  return.  He  had  plenty  of 
time  for  the  indulgence  now.  And  all  his  life  it  had 
seemed  as  if  when  he  had  taken  a  fancy  that  indicated 
future  ripening,  he  was  sent  off  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
or  it  was  at  the  fag  end  of  some  journey  and  he  was  com- 
ing home.  Once  he  had  carried  a  memory  in  his  heart 
for  months,  to  find  the  girl  lost  to  him  through  a  very 
satisfactory  engagement,  and  full  of  love's  enthusiasm. 

»93 


194  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

He  had  never  been  very  deeply  touched,  and  no  one  had 
died  for  love  of  him,  so  his  conscience  was  clear.  He 
had  grown  more  sympathetic  and  generous  toward  hu- 
man nature,  one  of  the  qualities  gained  by  a  wide  knowl- 
edge of  life.  He  had  never  counted  much  on  perfection, 
children  in  large  families  soon  mend  of  such  beliefs  and 
cease  to  make  the  demand.  His  father  had  stood  to  him 
for  the  embodiment  of  noble  manhood,  and  with  all  the 
cultured  people  he  had  met  he  had  never  seen  any  cause 
to  change  his  mind. 

He  studied  Gertrude  with  more  than  a  lover's  eye. 
He  had  come  to  the  time  when  comfort  is  the  great 
thing.  Not  that  having  enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  himself 
he  was  tired  of  them  and  would  want  to  shut  a  woman 
out  of  the  experience.  He  still  loved  variety,  and  peo- 
ple with  all  their  fads  and  follies  amused  him,  and  young 
people  with  their  heroic  beliefs  interested  him. 

They  sat  a  long  while  over  the  table.  She  had  grown 
to  be  an  attractive  talker  in  that  she  mostly  left  herself 
out  of  the  question.  Now  and  then  he  managed  to 
bring  out  some  quality  or  a  bit  of  temper,  or  a  flash  of 
wit.  And  he  was  considering  whether  he  should  surprise 
her  to-night  or  let  her  go  on  and  have  a  young  girl's 
dream  of  friendship. 

There  was  a  little  feeling  about  Sherburne,  poor  fel- 
low. 

"We  have  not  settled  the  most  important  matter 
yet,"  he  said,  as  they  went  back  to  the  reception-room. 
"  It  will  be  hardly  fair  to  allow  Sherburne  to  go  on  un- 
der a  mistaken  notion.  But  your  answer  would  be  defi- 
nite this  time." 

"  I  hate  to  think  about  it." 

She  had  been  so  deliciously  comfortable  the  last  hour 


A   LOVER   ON  THE   WINNING  SIDE.       195 

that  it  was  like  being  dragged  back  over  a  stubble  field, 
and  the  lines  of  her  face  betrayed  it. 

"But  you  must  consider  it,  my  child,  and  you  must 
act." 

That  had  a  lovely,  fatherly  sound,  and  this  man  was 
so  much  wiser  than  her  own  father,  who  would  have  beat 
about  and  offered  some  impossible  solution. 

"  I  can't  act  alone,"  she  said,  rather  pettishly. 

"  Give  him  the  chance,  then.  By  the  indications  of 
last  evening  he  will  be  ready  enough  to  take  it.  It  is  not 
wise  to  let  it  go  on  unless  you  do  mean  to  marry  him  in 
the  distant  future." 

"But  I  do  not." 

"  There  is  no  temptation  ?  " 

"I  am  not  old  enough  to  be  tempted  by  such  a  pros- 
pect.    I  like  my  present  life  better." 

"I  must  say  it  seems  to  suit  you  admirably." 

"And  it  offers  some  permanency." 

"  That  would  make  waiting  easier.  I  want  you  to  un- 
derstand that  you  are  giving  up  what  most  girls  would 
consider  a  fair  prospect." 

"You  forget  that  I  am  not  in  love,"  she  returned, 
sharply,  with  a  slight  frown  of  annoyance. 

"  I  do  sincerely  believe  you  are  not,"  he  said,  with  a 
tender  gravity  that  touched  her ;  for  he  was  fully  con- 
vinced. 

"  Then  the  sooner  the  crisis  comes  the  better  for  both 
parties. ' ' 

She  sat  silent.  Her  eyes  were  softened  with  a  mys- 
terious pity.  He  was  sorely  tempted  to  turn  it  into  joy. 
But  he  rose  without  yielding  to  it.  His  love  should 
stand  out  by  itself  and  not  be  mixed  up  with  any  other 
matter. 


196  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  I  have  made  you  an  unconscionable  visit,"  he  said, 
taking  up  his  hat. 

"And  given  me  a  pleasant  evening  with  all  the  good 
advice."  There  was  a  mischievous  glint  in  her  eyes  and 
a  half  smile  lurking  about  her  tempting  lips.  "  I  shall 
follow  the  advice,"  with  a  touch  of  seriousness  quite 
charming. 

"  And  you  may  depend  upon  me  for  the  rear  guard." 

Then  they  said  a  cordial  good-night.  She  settled 
among  the  cushions  and  gave  way  to  a  delicious  reverie. 
She  was  so  sure  of  her  friend  now.  She  would  rather 
have  his  respect  and  friendship  than  to  have  snapped  him 
up  in  that  half  proposal,  and  have  a  few  unwelcome 
questioning  glances  as  if  she  had  maneuvred  for  him. 
Marriage  was  not  quite  everything  as  her  mother  thought. 
Then  she  gave  a  soft  little  laugh  at  the  awful  disappoint- 
ment her  mother  would  experience  if  she  knew  of  this 
second  slighted  opportunity. 

Mrs.  Townsend  returned  soon  after. 

"  I've  had  just  a  delightful,  restful  time,"  she  said 
with  a  gratified  sound  in  her  voice.  "  There  was  no  one 
else,  of  course.  And  we  talked  over  old  days  when  you 
could  really  enjoy,  and  the  whole  study  of  life  was  not 
to  be  amused  by  some  strange  new  thing." 

"Mr.  Murray  came  in,"  said  Gertrude.  "  And  he 
took  tea  with  me.  Tea  is  a  quaintly  enjoyable  institu- 
tion." 

"Yes.     Then  you  were  not  lonesome." 

"I  do  not  believe  I  should  have  been  lonesome  any 
way,"  returned  Gertrude,  who  felt  at  that  moment  she 
could  go  on  to  old  age  without  another  lonesome  hour. 

But  it  was  a  rather  trying  week  with  many  nervous 
moments  in  it.     Mr.  Murray  did  not  drop  in,  she  guessed 


A   LOVER   ON  THE   WINNING  SIDE.       197 

he  was  staying  away  purposely.  She  did  not  go  to  walk 
at  any  hour  when  there  was  the  slightest  chance  of  meet- 
ing Sherburne.  On  Friday  evening  she  summoned  cour- 
age to  go  around  to  Mrs.  Kenneth's.  The  professor 
and  Bertram  had  gone  to  the  Draytons'  to  meet  some  fa- 
mous people. 

She  lingered  after  the  clock  struck  nine  and  finally 
rose.  There  was  a  quick  step  in  the  study  room  and  the 
next  instant  a  delighted  exclamation. 

"I  have  fortunately  come  in  time,"  Sherburne  ex- 
claimed. "  I  just  wanted  a  book  I  had  left  here.  Good- 
evening,  Mrs.  Kenneth.  Good-evening,  Ruth.  You 
won't  get  the  professor  home  before  midnight.  Uncle 
Bert  has  just  gone  down  there.  How  people  can  be  so 
much  interested  in  what  happened  thousands  of  years 
ago  !  I  like  things  of  to-day.  And  now  I'll  take  you 
home  on  my  way  back,"  to  Gertrude. 

"  Do  not  hurry  away  on  my  account." 

"  O  no.  I'm  keeping  good  hours.  I  have  turned  over 
a  bright  new  leaf  and  Uncle  Bert  has  written  a  commen- 
dation on  it." 

He  was  so  brilliant  and  smiling  that  he  seemed  to  make 
an  atmosphere  in  the  room. 

"  That  is  an  excellent  account  to  hear  about  you,"  re- 
joined Mrs.  Kenneth. 

They  walked  down  the  stairs  and  out  in  the  street. 
Gertrude's  heart  sank  within  her. 

''Don't  go  straight  home.  I  have  so  much  to  say. 
Didn't  I  tell  you  I  could  work  when  there  was  a  purpose 
in  view?  I've  gone  on  finely.  And  I've  kept  myself 
well  in  hand,  though  I  have  wanted  to  go  out  and  way- 
lay you  somewhere.  But  I  thought  I  would  save  all  my 
joy  until  to-morrow  night." 


198  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"You  will  not  see  me,"  she  said,  gravely;  "I  am 
going  to  the  theatre." 

"  With  whom  ?  "  in  a  peremptory  tone. 

"That  cannot  and  must  not  make  any  difference  to 
you,"  she  answered,  decisively.  "  I  am  glad  we  met  to- 
night. You  seem  to  have  forgotten  the  talk  we  had  be- 
fore you  went  home.     I  was  in  earnest  then." 

"But  you  said  we  might  be  friends.  I  am  only  going 
to  ask  for  friendship  until  I  really  have  some  prospects  of 
my  very  own  to  offer  you.  I  have  only  been  studying 
half-heartedly  and  wasn't  quite  sure  my  bent  was  for 
medicine  after  all.  There  are  some  things  about  it  I 
don't  like  and  shall  not  like  until  I  get  to  be  a  high-up 
man  expounding  theories.  And  if  you  make  yourself  do 
it  for  the  sake  of  the  woman  you  love " 

"Stop,"  Gertrude  interrupted.  "  You  take  up  a  life 
profession  because  it  is  the  desire  of  your  inmost  soul  and 
not  for  any  woman's  sake.  A  man  must  have  courage 
and  strength  enough  of  his  own  to  stand  quite  alone. 
Suppose  I  said  I  did  not  want  you  to  study  medicine." 

"Well,  there  is  law.  Father  would  be  awfully  glad 
to  have  me  reconsider.  And  there  is  a  splendid  connec- 
tion." 

"  You  must  put  me  out  of  the  question,  out  of  your 
life.  I  told  you  the  truth  when  I  said  I  did  not  love 
you.  You  have  taken  up  your  hope  on  a  flimsy  basis. 
I  am  sorry,  but  I  have  not  changed  my  mind  in  the 
slightest." 

"  But  you  were  willing  to  wait,"  rather  resentfully. 

"I  may  not  be  married  in  years,  perhaps  not  at  all. 
It  will  not  be  because  I  am  waiting  for  any  special  per- 
son, and  I  shall  not  promise  you  anything.  You  have  to 
fit  yourself  for  a  place  in  life,  you  owe  some  duty  to  your 


A   LOVER   ON  THE   WINNING  SIDE.       199 

parents  ;  and  when  you  have  achieved  this  it  will  be  time 
to  think  of  the  woman  you  would  like  to  share  it  with. 
You  will  contrast  her  with  me  then  and  be  surprised  that 
you  ever  fancied  me." 

"You  are  mistaken.  I  shall  never  care  for  any  one  in 
this  way  again,"  he  flung  out,  angrily. 

"  I  sincerely  hope  not.  A  man  ought  not  to  care  for  a 
woman  who  insists  that  she  does  not  love  him.  Why 
should  you  want  to  win  a  woman  against  her  will  ?  " 

"Well,  there  would  be  the  triumph.  Such  things 
have  been  done,"  he  returned  in  an  imperious  tone. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  could  be  won  in  that  way." 

"O  my  darling,  forgive  me!  No,  not  against  your 
will.  Love  must  always  be  a  free  gift.  But  you  will  not 
try.     That  vexes  me." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  I  could  not  persuade  myself  to  love. 
Then  there  would  be  the  years  of  feverish  expectation 
that  would  interfere  to  distract  your  attention  from  what 
was  really  worthy,  from  your  highest  aims.  And  in  two 
years'  time  I  might  meet  my  ideal.  Then,  would  you 
want  to  marry  a  woman  whose  truest  love  was  another's  ?  " 

"But  you  couldn't  if  you  had  promised,"  he  said, 
confidently. 

"  Will  you  understand  that  I  shall  make  no  promises?  " 
His  persistence  began  to  rouse  her  temper. 

"But  if  you  wait " 

"I  shall  be  quite  free.  I  may  marry  in  a  month's 
time,"  with  a  kind  of  fling  in  her  voice. 

"Then  you  have  a  lover,"  jealously. 

"  I  have  no  lover.  But  some  one  may  fancy  me," 
with  a  touch  of  exaltation  in  her  tone.  "There  was  a 
man  in  Denver,  an  ex-congressman  and  a  mine  owner, 
that  did  fancy  me." 


200  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  But  you  did  not  love  him,"  triumphantly. 

"  And  I  do  not  love  you." 

Sherburne's  hopes  fell  again.  As  he  was  willing  to 
wait  and  work,  why  could  she  not  accept  the  offering 
since  she  had  admitted  she  might  wait. 

"It  would  be  this  way,"  he  said.  "  You  should  be 
free.  If  you  met  some  one  to  your  fancy,  why  I  sup- 
pose I  should  accept  the  fact  after  awhile.  I  shouldn't 
murder  either  of  you,"  with  a  short  laugh.  "It  would 
go  very  hard  with  me,  but  it  wouldn't  be  quite  like  being 
thrown  over  in  the  very  beginning,  and  having  my  life 
upset." 

•"  I  should  think  it  would  be  much  easier." 

"  Ah,  but  I  love  you.  And  it  is  a  fair  field  while  you 
haven't  any  lover." 

She  wondered  a  little  if  she  might  not  drop  into  a  des- 
perate flirtation  if  that  would  cure  him. 

They  had  passed  the  house  and  gone  around  the  block. 
Now  she  halted  at  the  stoop. 

"  You  must  give  me  up  entirely  or  not  see  me  at  all," 
she  exclaimed,  decisively. 

"I  shall  do  neither." 

She  touched  the  bell  and  disappeared  within,  not  even 
saying  good-night. 

She  had  forgiven  him  before,  she  would  again.  He 
was  determined  to  succeed. 

"What  can  you  do  with  a  very  persistent  lover  who 
will  take  no  refusal  ?  1  have  not  had  much  experience 
in  lovers.  My  first  one  gave  me  up  cheerfully,  because 
there  was  some  one  he  liked  better  and  I  was  deprived  of 
the  honor  of  declining  him.  But  if  declining  is  such 
difficult  work,  I  pray  all  the  rest  may  give  me  up,  even  if 
I  suffer  from  mortification." 


A   LOVER    ON  THE   WINNING  SIDE.       201 

Gertrude  threw  her  hat  on  the  sofa  and  herself  on  the 
hassock  at  Mrs.  Townsend's  feet. 

"  Is  it  Sherburne  Beaumanoir  ?  " 

"Yes,"  in  a  tone  of  vexation. 

"  I  surmised  that  it  "would  come  to  this.  It  is  a  boyish 
fancy,  and  a  'boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will.'  The  wind 
may  blow  furiously  for  a  time,_  but  it  does  stop.  The 
river  goes  steadily  on." 

"  And  I'd  rather  take  my  sail  along  the  river  than  to  be 
blown  about  by  the  wind.  I  shouldn't  want  to  be  talking 
and  persuading  and  encouraging  and  considering.  I 
want  a  future  ready-made,  if  I  have  any.  I  am  afraid  I 
have  been  spoiled  by  things  coming  to  me  so  easily. 
Can  I  do  anything  more  than  say  '  no  '?  " 

"  And  act  the  '  No '  out  whenever  you  have  a  chance. 
I  am  very  sorry.  It  is  the  wildest  folly  for  such  a  young 
fellow  to  fall  into  an  engagement,  and  later  on  he  is  apt 
to  thank  the  girl  whose  good  sense  kept  him  out  of  it." 

She  went  to  the  theatre  with  a  party  of  young  people, 
and  when  she  returned  the  guests  had  departed.  Sher- 
burne had  not  come  in.  Mr.  Murray  had  been,  of 
course. 

"There  is  an  invitation  for  you.  A  famous  Russian 
violinist  with  a  tongue-twisting  name,  and  a  singer  of 
note.  I  think  you  can  be  trusted  with  such  an  old  fel- 
low without  a  chaperone.  I  have  an  engagement  and  a 
supper  afterward,  so  if  I  am  not  home  until  late,  you 
may  lay  it  to  dissipation  and  not  suspect  me  of  running 
off  with  some  fine  fellow." 

She  looked  at  the  tickets  and  Mr.  Murray's  card  on 
which  the  invitation  was  written  in  pencil.  Tuesday  even- 
ing. How  long  it  seemed  since  last  Sunday,  as  if  she 
had  not  seen  him  for  a  month.     And  he  was  in  the  habit 


202  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

of  dropping  in  often,  any  time  of  day  or  evening.  What 
would  he  say,  she  wondered.  Perhaps  he  had  seen  Sher- 
burne. But  it  was  hardly  likely  this  subject  would  be 
discussed  between  them. 

Miss  Ensign  came  in  Tuesday  afternoon. 

"  We  were  wondering  if  you  were  ill  or  anything,"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Mrs.  Kenneth  misses  you  so  when  you  do 
not  run  in  nearly  every  day.  You  see  and  hear  so  many 
things " 

"  And  talk  so  much,"  appended  Gertrude. 

"  We  like  the  talk,"  smilingly.  "  O,  I  have  had  such 
a  delightful  letter  from  Princess.  She  is  having  a  lovely 
time  in  Washington  and  it  seems  that  she  almost  made 
herself  famous  singing  at  a  musicale.  I  do  wish  she 
could  come  up  here.  But  they  are  all  there  together. 
What  happy  times  they  do  have." 

Ruth  sighed  a  little.  She  liked  Gertrude  very  much, 
but  she  had  not  come  as  near  to  her  as  to  the  other  girls. 

Gertrude  was  in  readiness  with  her  gloves  in  her  hand 
when  Mr.  Murray  came.  Mrs.  Townsend  had  only  time 
for  a  word  or  two. 

"  We  shall  be  tolerably  early,"  he  said,  "  but  we  will 
not  mind  that.     I  rarely  go  until  a  thing  is  half  through." 

"But  why?     Does  it  bore  you  ?  " 

"O  no,  I  am  generally  at  the  other  place.  Cities 
may  not  divide  the  honor  of  my  being  born  in  them,  but 
entertainments  often  divide  my  criticisms,  and  presence." 

"  And  you  take  a  whole  evening  for  this.  Is  it  so  ex- 
traordinary? " 

"  I  take  the  evening  for  you." 

Gertrude  flushed. 

People  were  slowly  gathering.  Their  seats  were  at 
the  end  where  they  would  not  be   disturbed    by   new- 


A   LOVER   ON  THE   WINNING  SIDE.       203 

comers.  Mr.  Murray  studied  his  program  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, paying  special  attention  to  the  names  of  the  per- 
formers. 

"Have  you  seen  Sherburne?"  he  asked,  presently,  in 
a  very  low  tone. 

"  Last  Friday  evening." 

"  And  you  told  him " 

"  I  tried  to  make  him  understand.  I  should  like  to 
know  how  well  I  succeeded." 

"  He  was  not  in  Saturday  evening." 

"  I  told  him  I  should  not  be  there." 

"  Did  you  think  he  would  come?  " 

"  I  had  not  supposed  he  would  the  week  before." 

"  Then  one  cannot  count  on  him  as  a  certain  factor  in 
any  case  ?  " 

There  was  a  smile  of  amusement  as  Murray  uttered  this. 

"  I  should  like  not  to  count  on  him  in  any  case.  But 
it  seems  hard  to  make  him  understand." 

Then  they  dropped  the  young  man.  The  violinist 
was  exceptionally  fine  and  had  to  play  an  encore.  The 
young  singer  had  a  sweet,  well-trained  voice.  There 
were  other  things,  a  brilliant  piano  duet  and  a  fantasy. 

Between  times  they  had  little  asides.  The  color  kept 
fluttering  up  and  down  Gertrude's  face.  She  had  not 
minded  his  glances  very  much  before,  she  had  become 
accustomed  to  being  almost  stared  at,  but  this  sent 
strange  little  shivers  over  her  which  were  neither  heat 
nor  cold  but  a  vague  sort  of  deliciousness.  And  he  was 
saying  odd  suggestive  things  that  did  not  mean  anything 
of  course,  but  occasionally  she  wished  he  would  not. 
Others  might  use  this  sort  of  society  flattery,  but  he  had 
no  need.  She  hoped  they  had  come  to  something  better, 
to  friendship. 


204  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

It  was  not  a  tiresomely  long  concert.  He  made  a  few 
notes  and  some  approving  nods,  and  then  wrapped  her 
fur  cape  about  her  and  put  up  the  collar,  elbowing  a 
way  through  the  crowd  for  her.  What  a  manly,  fine- 
looking  person  he  was.  She  recalled  the  fact  that  these 
solicitous  attentions  were  natural  to  him  when  he  was  on 
his  best  behavior  and  not  afflicted  with  laziness.  He 
was  not  putting  on  anything  special  to-night,  she  told 
herself. 

But  it  was  a  new  thing  to  be  almost  carried  up  the 
stairs,  and  then  have  him  fumble  with  the  key  and  come 
to  his  assistance,  and  feel  her  hand  crumpled  up  in  his 
as  she  opened  the  door. 

He  turned  up  the  gas  just  a  little.  How  warm  it  felt 
after  the  keenness  outside,  and  the  suggestive  softness 
through  the  ground  globe  made  shadows  in  the  corners 
and  gave  a  weird  look  to  the  pile  of  cushions  as  if  some 
one  might  be  hiding  there. 

"Take  off  your  wraps,"  he  said.  "I  am  going  to 
stay  until  Mrs.  Townsend  comes  home.  She  has  never 
entrusted  you  to  my  care  before,  and  I  want  to  return 
you  in  good  order.     Were  you  paid  for  going?  " 

"Why,  yes — since  I  had  none  of  the  expense,"  she 
answered,  laughingly. 

"And  the  little  tickets  were  complimentary." 

"There  were  car  fares,"  sententiously. 

"Yes.  Gertrude,  you  will  make  an  admirable  wife 
for  a  poor  man.  You  must  insist  upon  having  a  house- 
hold account  book.  A  penny  saved  is  as  good  as  a 
penny  earned,  I  have  heard,  so  be  careful  of  the  pen- 
nies." 

"  When  1  find  the  poor  man." 

"  Is  your  heart  so  set  upon  poverty?     That  is  youthful 


A   LOVER   ON  THE   WINNING  SIDE.       205 

and  romantic,  but  rather  unwise  at  the  end  of  the  cen- 
tury, when  money  seems  such  a  factor." 

He  had  dropped  on  the  sofa.  She  stood  beside  him, 
wondering  a  little  at  his  mood.  He  caught  her  hand 
and  drew  her  down. 

"Gertie,"  he  said,  "considerably  more  than  a  year 
ago  there  was  some  incipient  love-making.  He  was  a 
rather  oldish  fellow,  and  she  was  a  young  girl  who  had 
seen  nothing  of  the  world,  and  who,  if  she  had  been  just 
a  tint  more  scheming  would  have  heard  him  through, 
and  maybe  accepted  him.  But  she  refused  him  as  any 
good  honorable  girl  would  have  who  wasn't  quite  certain 
what  either  of  them  meant.  It  was  one  of  those  wise 
blunders  that  sometimes  occur  when  people  are  not  sure 
of  themselves  or  each  other.  And  now  the  old  fellow  is 
a  year  older,  and  the  girl  has  had  some  experience  and  a 
young  lover,  and  she  knows  there  is  more  than  one  man 
in  the  world.  Do  you  think  she  can  love  well  enough  to 
bridge  over  all  the  years  between  and  be  happy  with 
him?  " 

Gertrude  Maurice  sat  upright,  stiff  and  surprised,  and 
simply  looked  at  Mr.  Murray. 

"Will  I  do — Gertie?"  he  said,  softly,  and  his  arm 
was  about  her,  drawing  her  down  to  his  shoulder. 

"  O,  you  don't  mean — "  there  was  a  little  convulsive 
catch  in  her  voice. 

"I  mean  that  I  love  you  and  want  you.  I  mean  a 
great  many  more  things  that  you  will  go  on  finding  out 
year  by  year,  if  you  conclude  to  take  me.  Some  you 
will  like,  some  won't  suit  you  at  all,  but  you  see  I  am  an 
oldish  fellow  and  can't  fly  around  like  a  weather  cock  at 
every  young  girl's  whim.  But  taking  it  all  in  all,  if  you 
think  you  can  love  me  we  may  get  along  fairly.     I  shall 


206  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

want  a  great  deal  of  love — quite  as  much  as  any  young 
fellow." 

"  O  !  "  with  a  soft  cry.  Then  she  hid  her  face.  Did 
he  really  want  her  ?  If  she  had  asked  her  gift  out  of  all 
the  world,  it  would  have  been  this.  A  week  ago  she  had 
settled  to  a  delightful  friendship,  and  thought  the  world 
had  nothing  more  to  give  her. 

"  Gertrude?  " 

"  O,  I  think  now  you  must  know,  that  you  must 
have  known  it  all  along.  One  day — on  the  sand  sat  Mel- 
chias  Island.  It  was  just  a  look.  I  could  not  think  you 
would  come  to  care  for  me.  I  envied  the  girl  for  whom 
you  would  care.  And  that  night  on  the  boat — I  was  not 
sure  how  much  you  meant,  and  I  didn't  want  any  one  to 
say  I  had  taken  a  mean  advantage  of  your  lovely  hospi- 
tality.    I  would  rather  have  given  you  up." 

"  And  now  you  don't  mind  what  any  one  thinks?  " 

There  was  a  strand  of  mirthfulness  in  his  tone. 

"I  am  afraid  I  don't." 

He  drew  the  flushed  face  up  to  his  and  gave  her  her 
first  lover's  kisses. 

"  Gertrude,"  he  began,  seriously,  some  moments  later, 
"I  want  you  to  consider  this  subject  of  age.  When  I 
am  sixty  you  will  be  at  the  finest  period  of  a  woman's 
life.  And  it  is  only  fair  to  warn  you  there  is  very  little 
chance  of  widowhood.  My  father  is  hale  and  hearty, 
and  I  feel  within  me  the  certain  premonitions  of  old  age. 
I  shall  want  to  be  loved  and  coddled  and  cared  for — I 
dare  say  I  shall  be  jealous  and  unreasonable.  I  won't 
begin  by  painting  those  years  in  rose  color,  even  if  we 
have  violets  in  their  sweetness  all  along  first.  And  this  is 
a  grave  question." 

"  But  you  are  not  old  !  "  she  protested.     "  And  did  it 


A   LOVER   ON  THE   WINNING  SIDE.       207 

ever  occur  to  you  that  I  am  not  young  for  twenty  years  ? 
Or  else  I  have  lived  in  some  other  life  and  have  vague 
experiences  of  it  ?  " 

"I  want  you  young.  That's  a  bit  of  my  unreason- 
ableness. And  I  want  you  sweet  and  fond  and  bright  to 
take  me  back  to  that  magical  land.  I  want  love  enough 
to  make  up  for  all  these  years.  And  I  will  promise  to  be 
better  than  the  Browning  lover,  I  will  love  you  the  whole 
year  round,  not  merely  <  half  the  year.'  " 

She  laughed  delightedly. 

"  Do  you  think  Princess  will  like  it  ?  "  she  asked,  pres- 
ently.    "  She  loves  you  so." 

"  She  has  given  me  permission." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  had  never  come  into  your  life  after 
that  night  on  the  boat — "  she  said,  hesitatingly. 

"Ah,  but  you  were  not  going  out.  I  will  tell  you 
now — Mrs.  Townsend  wrote  to  me  while  we  were  at  the 
island.  I  thought  the  place  would  suit  you  better  than 
the  teaching  you  abhorred.  I  did  not  think  of  myself 
just  then,  that  came  a  little  later.  I  saw  her  that  day  in 
New  York.  She  had  written  to  Mrs.  St.  John  and  re- 
ceived her  commendation,  and  made  an  appointment  to 
meet  you.  She  taxed  me  with  a  suspicious  fondness, 
and  on  condition  that  I  was  not  to  interfere,  neither  see 
you  nor  write  to  you  for  a  year,  she  engaged  to  keep  you 
tolerably  safe,  unless  some  enchanting  young  man  came 
along." 

"They  were  rather  middle  aged,"  said  Gertrude, 
mirthfully.  "There  were  two  of  them,  one  rich,  and 
famous  in  his  own  estimation." 

"And  I  am  famous  in  other  people's  estimation.  That 
makes  a  great  difference." 

"  And  you  knew  all  the  while?  " 


2o8  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  I  was  not  going  to  let  you  out  into  the  great  world 
with  no  watchful  care.  And  if  the  young  man  had  ap- 
peared I  should  have  hurried  to  the  fray  at  once." 

"I  am  glad  you  cared  for  me  then."  It  was  delight- 
ful to  have  been  loved  unknowingly. 

"  So  you  have  this  arrears  to  make  up  to  me." 

She  nestled  closer.  The  care  and  interest  was  very 
sweet.  They  both  forgot  about  the  young  man  of  con- 
fident hopes. 

It  was  just  midnight  when  Mrs.  Townsend  returned. 

"Con  Murray,"  she  began,  "you  must  go  home  at 
once.  You  need  not  even  stop  for  an  explanation.  This 
is  taking  a  mean  advantage  of  my  absence,  and  depriv- 
ing my  secretary  of  her  natural  rest.  You  know  what  I 
said  about  them  when  they  began  to  have  lovers." 

"I  shall  see  about  having  my  house  put  in  order  at 
once.  To-morrow  at  ten  you  may  expect  me.  Can  I 
stay  to  luncheon?" 

They  all  laughed. 

When  he  was  gone  Mrs.  Townsend  put  her  arm  about 
Gertrude. 

"You  will  have  a  fine  husband,  dear,  but  I  wish  he 
was  ten  years  younger." 

Gertrude  thought  she  would  not  have  him  changed  in 
the  slightest  respect. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A   DISCORD    OF   UNREASON. 

OVER  their  cozy  breakfast  Gertrude  confessed  her 
unsatisfactory  attempt  to  convince  her  young  ad- 
mirer that  he  had  nothing  to  hope  for  and  that  even 
friendship  now  would  be  irksome. 

"I  really  did  not  think  him  in  earnest,  at  least  not 
marrying  earnest.  He  will  soon  recover  from  his  fancy. 
And  the  best  step  will  be  to  announce  your  engagement 
at  once." 

Gertrude  turned  a  vivid  scarlet.  Was  it  actually  true 
that  she  was  engaged  to  the  one  man  she  felt  she  could 
love  with  fervent  devotion,  the  man  she  had  sometimes 
speculated  upon,  but  never  in  the  depth  of  her  heart  be- 
lieved she  could  win. 

"You  see  the  idea  is  not  new  to  me,"  continued  her 
friend.  "I  like  Con  Murray  extremely,  but  I  did  not 
mean  he  should  shut  you  out  of  opportunities  for 
judging  whether  younger  men  had  not  some  subtle  charm 
for  you.  I  am  not  sure  even  /  would  like  the  disparity. 
People  nearer  of  an  age  are  more  apt  to  have  similar 
tastes  and  enjoyments.  But  his  profession  will  keep  him 
in  touch  with  the  younger  ideas  of  life,  the  work  and 
thoughts  of  to-day.  And  there  is  one  particular  mistake 
I  hope  you  will  avoid." 

A  tint  of  color  crept  up  in  Mrs.  Townsend's  face,  and 
she  gave  an  airy  sort  of  nod  and  smile  as  if  she  was  not 
quite  sure  how  her  advice  would  be  received. 

209 


2io  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  O  tell  me  whatever  you  think  will  benefit  me  and 
help  me  to  make  him  happy." 

"  My  dear,  let  him  try  to  make  you  happy  for  awhile. 
Young  wives  often  offer  too  much  devotion.  But  what  I 
wished  to  say  was  that  you  must  get  used  to  seeing  other 
women  admire  him,  and  you  must  not  turn  unduly  jeal- 
ous. Women  have  been  used  to  making  much  of  him. 
They  do  have  favors  to  ask  of  him  and  I  think  he  is  par- 
ticularly friendly  to  struggling  feminines.  There  are 
many  silly  women  in  the  world  who  have  a  fancy  they 
can  understand  this  or  that  particular  man  and  make  him 
happier  than  his  wife  does.  There  are  others  who  make 
a  bid  for  any  man's  admiration.  And  the  wife  who  turns 
cold  and  silent  and  proud  surely  loses.  Keep  your  right 
to  try  for  his  admiration  as  well  as  his  love.  A  little  ex- 
perience will  teach  you  when  to  claim  as  well  as  when 
to  refrain,  and  do  not  be  too  self-willed  to  make  the  en- 
deavor. You  will  find  men  are  not  perfection,  but  then 
neither  are  women." 

They  both  strayed  away  from  the  subject  on  which 
they  had  started.  The  mail  came  in  and  they  were  still 
sitting  over  the  fruit  when  Mr.  Murray  entered. 

He  walked  around  and  kissed  Gertrude  with  an  air  of 
proprietorship  that  quite  amazed  her,  and  drawing  a 
chair  sat  down  beside  her. 

"Do  you  suppose  I  could  have  some  coffee?  I  was 
up  at  six  this  morning,  in  the  dark  and  dreary  world  be- 
fore there  was  any  smiling  sun.  And  it  does  not  smile 
very  cordially  now." 

"That  can  make  little  difference  to  you  in  your  pres- 
ent beatific  state.  You  are  a  spoiled  child  and  I  ought 
to  take  you  in  training  for  Gertrude's  sake.  But  you  may 
have  the  coffee  this  morning." 


A   DISCORD    OF  UNREASON.  211 

"Thank  you  at  least  twenty  times." 

"  You  are  moderate.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  are  not  in 
an  exaggerated  frame  of  mind." 

Mrs.  Townsend  rang  for  the  coffee.  Gertrude  felt 
oddly  embarrassed,  but  Mr.  Murray  soon  dropped  into  a 
half  teasing  and  wholly  delightful  mood.  Mrs.  Town- 
send  insisted  with  great  apparent  earnestness  that  she 
could  not  give  up  her  secretary  until  the  year  expired. 

"  But  I  have  another  to  commend  to  you.  A  young 
woman  who  despises  men  and  has  forsworn  matrimony." 

"I  have  no  faith  in  women  who  despise  men.  They 
have  generally  been  crossed  in  love  and  are  soured,  or 
have  an  eye  on  the  next  chance." 

"  Then  I  will  come  myself  and  write  your  letters.  I 
will  allow  Gertrude  to  pour  tea  or  coffee  on  Saturday 
evenings,  whichever  is  the  least  arduous." 

"  Or  renders  her  the  least  attractive." 

"  Exactly.     How  quickly  you  guessed  my  meaning." 

"I  knew  you  had  some  Bluebeard  propensities." 

He  nodded  and  laughed. 

"Now  I  am  going  to  give  you  just  half  an  hour. 
You  may  wander  out  to  the  reception-room." 

"  And  no  chaperon  !  How  utterly  delightful  you  are  ! 
Gertrude,  fortunately  we  will  not  go  to  Paris  until  next 
year;  New  York  will  be  satisfactory  to  us." 

They  walked  out  of  the  cozy  drawing-room.  Was  he 
really  her  lover  ? 

Mrs.  Townsend  looked  after  them  in  an  amused  fash- 
ion. She  had  a  half  feeling  of  elation  that  her  protege 
had  captured  this  man  whom  many  a  society  girl  had 
angled  for.  Yet  she  had  not  pinned  much  faith  on  his 
first  fancy,  and  was  pleased  that  Gertrude  had  not  gone 
headlong  into  admiration  for  him. 


212  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

"I  wonder,"  Gertrude  said,  after  awhile,  "if  you  can 
understand  that  I  feel  truly  sorry  for  Sherburne,  and  have 
a  vague  misgiving  that  he  will  take  the  tidings  of  the " 

"The  engagement,"  he  appended,  and  she  paused  and 
colored  in  embarrassment. 

"  Harder  than  any  of  us  have  thought.     Will  you 

tell  him?" 

"  I  will  do  it  as  soon  as  possible.  He  has  a  good  deal 
of  temper  and  may  flare  up  at  first.  But  he  must  see — 
and  I  think  he  has  some  common  sense." 

Gertrude  gave  a  little  sigh.  "  I  wish  it  had  not 
happened."  Could  she  have  averted  it?  His  prefer- 
ence had  flattered  her.  Any  young  girl  it  seemed  to  her 
might  fall  enthusiastically  in  love  with  him,  if  she  had 
no  other  ideal.  And  she  sincerely  hoped  it  was  one  of 
the  evanescent  fancies. 

It  was  a  strong  one,  however.  He  was  the  embodiment 
of  young  romance,  and  a  first  love  with  such  inexperi- 
enced natures  seems  to  pervade  every  fibre  of  heart  and 
brain.  He  had  a  stubborn  belief  that  devotion  must  win 
in  the  end  even  if  it  dethroned  common  sense  for  a 
season.  Her  charming  friendliness  he  felt  certain  sprang 
from  a  deeper  interest,  and  her  way  of  holding  aloof  had 
piqued  his  vanity.  A  girl  who  had  dropped  into  a  flirta- 
tion, and  had  no  quality  but  sweetness  would  soon  have 
satiated  him,  and  the  fancy  died  from  lack  of  that  fine 
sustenance  that  holds  a  promise  of  better  things  to  come. 

And  now  he  was  resolved  not  to  give  her  up.  He  had 
a  youthful  belief  that  love  must  conquer  from  its  very 
persistency,  since  he  was  quite  sure  she  loved  no  one  else. 

But  the  struggle  made  him  impatient  and  a  little  irri- 
table. He  could  not  study  with  the  zest  of  the  last  fort- 
night, for  he  was  continually  planning  how  he  could  meet 


A   DISCORD   OF  UNREASON.  213 

her  again,  and  storing  up  arguments.  He  might  throw 
up  his  present  aims  and  find  a  business  opening  that 
would  enable  him  to  marry  sooner.  His  brain  was  a 
chaos  of  half-formed  plans. 

"I  confess  Sherburne  puzzles  me,  and  tries  me  as 
well,"  said  Doctor  Carew  to  his  wife.  "He  has  so 
much  force  and  energy,  so  much  quickness  and  ability, 
but  I  am  afraid  he  is  more  brilliant  than  stable.  Just 
when  he  raises  your  hopes  and  you  feel  he  has  reached 
a  definite  purpose,  you  find  he  has  dropped  down  to  the 
verge  of  indifference.  I  do  wonder  if  his  heart  is  sin- 
cerely in  the  profession  he  has  chosen." 

"But  remember  how  really  young  he  is,"  returned 
Mrs.  Carew.  "  His  air  and  manner  and  general  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  make  him  seem  older.  There  are 
many  qualities  so  like  his  father.  One  can't  help  having 
high  hopes  for  him." 

"  And  some  of  the  young  fellows  who  seem  to  promise 
most,  never  do  anything  especial.  Now  Ned  isn't  a  bril- 
liant chap,  but  he  has  a  great  deal  of  persistence  and  is 
going  to  take  his  next  degree  with  honors.  I  should  like 
to  have  him  in  charge.  And  if  I  felt  less  responsibility 
for  Sherburne,  I  might  take  it  more  lightly." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  were  born  not  to  take  things  lightly," 
Lyndell  said,  with  a  smile.  And  the  thought  came  into 
her  mind  as  to  how  nearly  his  own  sons  would  satisfy 
him  in  years  to  come  ?  How  much  real  and  lasting  in- 
fluence did  any  individual  exert? 

The  world  seemed  mostly  going  at  cross  purposes  with 
Sherburne  Beaumanoir.  How  could  he  manage  to  see 
Gertrude  again  ?  He  made  excuses  to  pass  the  house, 
he  dropped  in  at  the  Kenneths'.  Bertram  wearied  him 
with  questions,  he  was  so  eager  for  every  bit  of  knowl- 


2i4  THE  HEIR   0F  SHERBURNE. 

edge,  or  else  he  had  to  recount  some  remarkable  fact  or 
discovery.  He  rebuffed  Aunt  Lyndell's  attempts  to  draw 
him  out  of  his  abstracted  mood. 

Uncle  Con  sent  him  an  invitation  to  come  and  take 
supper  with  him  at  his  rooms.  lie  had  a  bit  of  news  for 
him. 

"Another  piece  of  luck  I  dare  say,"  the  boy  mused. 
"  I  wish  I  could  strike  luck  somewhere.  Three  or  four 
years  is  a  long  while  to  wait." 

But  he  went,  and  had  a  warm  welcome.  There  was  a 
real  fire  burning  in  the  grate,  and  though  the  place  was 
littered  up  bachelor  fashion,  it  looked  cozy  and  hospitable. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself  the  last 
fortnight?"  asked  Uncle  Con.  "I  have  hardly  seen 
you." 

"I  have  been  busy  about  various  matters,"  was  the 
brief  reply.     He  had  not  desired  to  see  any  one. 

"  I  hope  you  have  not  been  gay  and  dissipated." 

"  I  have  not  been  very  gay." 

"Well,  a  little  seriousness  is  good  now  and  then." 

The  waiter  came  in  and  began  to  prepare  the  table. 
Uncle  Con  eyed  his  guest.  What  made  the  usually 
bright  fellow  so  serious  ? 

"I  hope  you  are  in  no  money  trouble,  Sherburne,"  he 
began,  kindly. 

"It  isn't  a  present  but  a  future  contingency,"  and  he 
gave  a  faint  smile.  "Uncle  Con,  do  you  know  of  any- 
thing in  which  in  a  few  years  a  fellow  could  be  realizing 
a  fair  salary?  " 

"  At  business?" 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  would  have  to  be  business.  I  am 
afraid  I  have  not  the  genius  to  write  a  striking  novel,  or 
hit  upon  some  invention  to  supply  a  long-felt  want." 


A   DISCORD   OF  UNREASON.  215 

"There  needs  to  be  some  training.  Are  you  tired  of 
medicine?  " 

"  Perhaps  not  tired.  It  is  so  long  to  wait.  And  then 
there  are  several  years  spent  in  acquiring  a  practice." 

"And  in  business  there  ought  to  be  several  years' 
training,  unless  one  has  the  money  to  secure  a  favorable 
partnership." 

The  supper  came  in,  a  sort  of  high  tea.  They  did  not 
need  the  waiter  and  he  was  dismissed.  Uncle  Con 
started  another  subject,  to  find  his  nephew  still  abstracted 
to  a  certain  degree. 

He  suddenly  roused.  "Uncle  Con,"  he  began, 
"what  was  your  news?  Have  you  been  writing  a  suc- 
cessful play  ?  ' ' 

"One  could  not  be  certain  of  the  success  in  the 
writing.  Plays  have  an  uncertain  first  night.  But  I 
thought  you  might  be  interested  in  another  outcome, 
which  I  hope  will  not  be  as  uncertain.  A  change  in  my 
life " 

"  O, are  you  going  away  again?  Uncle  Con,  I  almost 
envy  you.  It  must  be  delightful  to  do  just  what  one 
wishes." 

"I  haven't  always  followed  out  my  own  fancies.  I 
have  been  doing  a  good  deal  of  what  other  people  wished. 
We  have  to,  in  this  life.  Things  are  seldom  ready-made 
for  us." 

Sherburne  seemed  considering.  "I  don't  know  what 
you  could  do  to  surprise  people  in  general,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  unless  you  married." 

"Then  I  shall  surprise  them.  That  is  exactly  what  I 
purpose  to  do." 

"And  I  envy  you  there,"  in  a  rapid,  grudging  tone. 
"  If  I  could  be  five  years  older  and  have  a  competence?  " 


216  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

Was  the  young  fellow  really  dreaming  of  that  ?  Mr. 
Murray  was  surprised  at  his  earnestness.  He  had 
treated  the  matter  lightly  in  his  thoughts.  He  had  seen 
so  many  young  loves. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  to  his  former  affirmation,  "  I  have 
resolved  to  marry  and  have  a  real  home  of  my  own.  I 
shall  keep  open  house  for  all  the  nephews  and  nieces. 
And  now  you  may  guess.  It  is  some  one  you  have  seen, 
some  one  you  know  quite  well." 

Sherburne  glanced  intently  at  his  uncle.  There  was  a 
pretty  widow  he  had  met  at  Mrs.  Townsend's  who  had  a 
curious  fashion  of  claiming  Uncle  Con — there  was  Mrs. 
Townsend.  O  no,  that  could  not  be.  There  were  two 
charming  western  women  who  had  been  visiting  in  the 
city,  and  Uncle  Con  had  taken  them  to  the  theatres  and 
introduced  them  in  several  congenial  circles.  One,  the 
elder,  was  an  energetic  newspaper  woman. 

"  You  are  such  a  general  admirer  of  the  sex  that  one 
would  be  a  little  puzzled  to  select  any  particular  per- 
son." 

"You  think  so?"  Uncle  Con  gave  a  soft  delighted 
sort  of  laugh.  "  Yet  you  need  not  go  very  far.  It  is 
some  one  we  have  known  for  a  year  and  a  half,  the  girls 
longer  than  that." 

A  sudden  sharp  breathless  pang  seized  Sherburne.  He 
looked  steadily  at  his  uncle,  his  eyes  dilating,  his  lips 
losing  their  youthful  gayety  and  settling  into  definite 
lines  of  obstinacy  and  doubt.  A  certain  revelation  crept 
in  slowly,  though  he  was  trying  to  fight  it  every  inch  of 
the  way.  She  had  confessed  to  having  an  ideal,  though 
she  had  strenuously  denied  the  real  lover.  What  mad- 
ness, what  bewilderment  had  seized  her  ! 

"  You  must  tell   me,"  he  said,  huskily,  and  his  eyes 


A   DISCORD    OF  UNREASON.  217 

dropped.     He  seemed  bracing  for  a  blow  and  the  bril- 
liant coloring  faded. 

"  It  is  Miss  Maurice.  I  liked  her  a  good  deal  the  sum- 
mer at  Melchias  island.  She  was  young  and  had  seen 
nothing  of  the  world,  so  I  preferred  she  should  go  away 
with  Mrs.  Townsend.  If  she  had  met  some  one  to  her 
fancy  that  would  have  been  the  end  of  it.  And  it  would 
not  have  been  the  first  untimely  fancy  of  my  life,  either." 

There  was  a  sound  in  his  voice  meant  for  solace  to  the 
young  fellow,  who  was  impervious  to  comfort  or  reason 
just  now.  And  the  tender  light  in  the  elder's  face  mad- 
dened him. 

"I  suppose  she  thinks  you  a  good  catch,"  he  said,  in 
what  he  meant  for  sarcasm,  but  the  curl  of  the  lip  made 
it  insolence.  •  "  You  have  a  fine  position  and  your  wife 
will  be  well  received  among  attractive  people  and  have  a 
good  many  indulgences.  Then  your  fortune  is  already 
established.  She  will  not  have  to  wait  years,  as  she 
would  if  she  took  some*  young  man  who  had  his  to 
make." 

"You  do  her  scant  justice,  I  think.  She  could  marry 
richer  men  if  she  cared  for  mere  money." 

"The  position  counts  for  something.  *  And  it  must 
gratify  a  woman's  vanity  to  capture  a  man  who  is  made 
as  much  of  by  women  as  you  are." 

Uncle  Con  laughed.  He  would  have  been  angry  if 
he  had  not  known  the  other  side  of  the  case,  for  it 
seemed  intended  disrespect. 

"Of  course  it  isn't  for  love,"  Sherburne  flung  out 
angrily.  "  She  might  love  a  young  man,  but  when  she 
deliberately  chooses  between  youth  and  love,  and  a  man 
double  her  age  and  all  the  material  things  of  life — it  is 
easy  to  see  what  has  swayed  her." 


21 8  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Mr.  Murray  was  displeased. 

"  Do  you  know  of  her  having  done  this,  Sherburne?  " 
he  asked,  incisively.  "  If  you  do  not  I  cannot  allow  you 
to  traduce  the  woman  who  has  accepted  me.  For  after 
all,  I  am  not  rich  enough  to  be  any  overwhelming  temp- 
tation. And  I  do  think  she  is  truthful  enough  to  have 
declined  my  proffer  if  her  affections  were  elsewhere  en- 
gaged." 

That  was  the  sting  of  it.  He  was  not  indignant  at 
being  betrayed,  he  could  not  accuse  Gertrude  Maurice  of 
that ;  he  was  angry  that  she  had  not  loved  him,  and 
with  the  unreasonable  faith  of  youth  he  was  quite  sure 
that  in  time  he  might  have  won  her  regard  but  for  this 
interference  on  his  uncle's  part. 

"  She  liked  me.  She  did  the  first  day  we  met.  I 
can't  explain — I'm  not  used  to  dissecting  people's 
feelings  and  writing  them  up.  She  has  been — well,  I  had 
grounds  to  think  she  would  have  come  to  love  me  pres- 
ently. And  I  love  her.  I  shall  never  love  any  one  so 
much  again.  I  shall  never  have  faith  in  a  woman's  smiles 
or  her  sweet  tones,  if  these  can  deceive.  I  suppose  one 
cannot  blame  her  for  doing  the  best  she  could  for  herself. 
If  you  had  not  come —  And  Uncle  Con,  you  are  twice 
her  age ! " 

He  had  that  triumph  over  his  rival — splendid  youth. 
And  boy-like,  he  made  the  most  of  it  in  his  flashing  eyes. 

"  Not  quite,"  returned  Mr.  Murray,  with  an  aspect  of 
imperturbable  good  humor.  ''And  I  shall  never  be  so 
near  it  again.  She  will  be  growing  up  to  me.  In  ten 
years  more  I  shall  not  be  double  her  age." 

"  But — it  is  a  shame  !  " 

"  I  should  like  to  be  set  back  ten  years  for  her  sake, 
yet  they  have  been  rich,  satisfying  years  to  me.     But, 


A   DISCORD   OF  UNREASON.  219 

Sherburne,  suppose  you  go  and  present  your  case  to  her. 
Set  it  forth  with  all  the  advantages  of  youth.  If  you 
win  I  will  relinquish  her,  though  I  confess  I  love  her  as 
well." 

"  It  would  be  of  no  use."  Sherburne  could  not  bring 
himself  to  admit  that  twice  she  had  refused  his  overtures. 
He  was  too  sore  and  angry  and  obstinate  to  be  just  to 
her. 

"  I  suppose  a  woman  is  the  best  judge  of  whom  she  is 
capable  of  loving,"  said  the  elder. 

Sherburne  pushed  away  his  chair  and  rose  with  an  in- 
dignant gesture.  All  the  rest  of  life  would  have  a  shadow 
over  it,  a  sorrow  through  it.  She  could  have  been  in- 
spiration to  him  and  helped  him  to  attain  position,  to  work 
for  prosperity,  for  her.  What  was  the  use  of  being  rich 
and  great  if  no  one  cared  !  Just  now  there  was  no  one 
in  his  world  but  Gertrude  Maurice.  What  would  the 
other  achievements  be  to  a  lonely  man. 

"Sherburne,"  said  his  uncle,  with  grave  sympathy, 
"let  us  discuss  the  matter  with  a  little  reason.  You 
really  ought  not  to  burthen  your  young  manhood  with 
an  engagement.  In  a  few  years  from  this  your  ideal 
will  change.  Honestly  I  think  you  can  find  a  more  fit- 
ting mate  when  your  time  of  real  love  comes.  You  will 
learn  that  youth  has  more  than  one  fancy.  If  Gertrude 
had  loved'  you  I  should  have  cared  enough  about  your 
future  to  take  it  in  hand  and  smooth  the  path  for  you. 
You  know  your  father  would  have  felt  hurt  and  disap- 
pointed in  a  step  like  this,  while  he  is  doing  his  best  for 
you,  has  indeed  given  up  his  heart's  desire  that  you 
should  follow  out  your  own  bent." 

Sherburne  stood  by  the  window  looking  down  on  the 
street.     He  could  not  accept  any  friendly  overtures  from 


220  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

the  man  who  was  to  marry  Miss  Maurice.  All  the  de- 
lightful times  were  at  an  end.  He  had  been  deceived — 
since  they  both  believed  the  same  way  they  would  make 
merry  over  his  poor  flouted  love.  • 

"  My  dear  boy " 

That  angered  him  afresh.  At  twenty,  one  had  a  right 
to  a  man's  feelings  and  dignity. 

"  Don't,  Uncle  Con  !  Nothing  can  better  it !  I  can't 
talk  about  it.  I — well  I  had  better  say  good-night  at 
once." 

"  But  we  are  not  going  to  part  this  way." 

"I  can't  congratulate  you.  I  suppose  you  will  be 
happy  enough  without  it.  I've  just  got  to  fight  it  out 
and  endure  it.     I  can't  stand  anything  more." 

He  picked  up  his  hat  and  took  his  coat  on  his  arm, 
and  the  next  instant  had  vanished. 

Mr.  Murray  gave  a  soft,  half-amused  whistle  and 
looked  at  the  door  a  moment  as  if  the  angry  fellow  might 
return. 

"He  takes  it  harder  than  I  imagined,"  he  mused. 
Had  Gertrude  unconsciously  or  from  love  of  amusement 
encouraged  him  ?  Of  course  she  knew  when  he  proposed 
to  visit  her  at  home  that  she  was  a  source  of  interest  to 
him.  Many  girls  would  have  enjoyed  the  flirtation.  He 
could  not  see  that  she  had  been  seriously  at  fault.  Had 
his  position  biased  her?  She  was  doing  very  well,  he 
knew  that,  but  he  wanted  an  unselfish  regard.  Was  he 
quite  sure  he  was  getting  it? 

Sherburne  stopped  in  the  hall  to  put  on  his  overcoat. 
The  night  was  sharp  and  cold  as  he  emerged  into  it.  He 
had  a  desperate  feeling  that  he  would  like  to  do  some- 
thing out  of  the  ordinary  course.  Drinking  he  abhorred. 
There  was  a  very  respectable  place  where    young  men 


A   DISCORD   OF  UNREASON.  221 

went  to  play,  and  in  the  private  rooms  there  was  regular 
gambling.  But  he  had  only  a  little  money  with  him, 
and  he  had  promised  his  mother  that  he  would  shun  such 
places. 

So  he  tramped  around  scarcely  noting  whither  he 
went.  Then  it  came  into  his  mind  that  he  would  go 
and  have  it  out  with  Miss  Maurice  while  he  was  in  the 
humor.  She  had  taken  all  the  joy  out  of  his  life — why 
should  she  not  know  it ! 

Yet  he  hesitated  a  moment  on  the  stoop.  A  lady  and 
gentleman  ascended  the  steps — he  had  seen  them  a  time 
or  two,  and  they  all  went  in  together. 

There  were  several  other  guests  in  the  parlor.  He  sat 
down  in  a  small  reception-room  and  awaited  Miss  Mau- 
rice. It  was  some  time  before  she  came ;  she  had  occu- 
pied the  moments  in  working  herself  up  to  a  desperate 
mood. 

He  bowed  with  a  cold  politeness.  It  was  extremely 
awkward,  and  somehow  she  had  no  heart  for  platitudes. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  happened  in,"  she  began,  with 
evident  embarrassment.  "  There  was  something  I  wanted 
you  to  know." 

"  Then  I  have  been  fortunate.  I  was  not  sure  I  would 
be  welcome." 

•  The  voice  had  a  touch  of  irony  in  it,  and  his  demeanor 
was  extremely  lofty.  It  suddenly  roused  her  sense  of 
fun,  and  she  wanted  to  laugh.  That  might  have  demol- 
ished the  tragic  aspect. 

"I  want  to  tell  you  that — "  she  colored  vividly  in  the 
pause,  "  that  I  am  engaged.  It  is  best  that  you  should 
know  it  at  once,  as  it  will  not  be  a  long  engagement." 

"You  are  very  honorable." 

"You  said  that — while  I  was  free — you  should  keep 


222  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

hoping."     What  made  him  take  it  so  calmly,  unless  he 
had  already  been  informed  ? 

There  was  another  long,  awkward  silence.  She  was 
really  vexed  with  him. 

"  I  gave  up  my  hope  an  hour  or  more  ago,"  he  said, 
at  length,  in  a  cold  tone.  He  meant  to  be  as  impressive 
as  possible.  "  I  was  taking  supper  with  my  uncle.  It 
shocked  and  surprised  me.  I  had  not  supposed  you 
could  be  tempted  with  the  goods  of  this  world,  merely." 

"I  was  not  tempted  by  anything,"  she  returned,  with 
some  spirit.  "  I  will  say  now  that  I  have  long  admired 
your  uncle.  Once  I  might  have  answered  a  suggestion 
in  a  manner  to  make  it  a  proposal,  and  that  was  in  our 
first  acquaintance,  and  a  time  when  temptation  to  such  a 
step  would  have  been  doubly  strong,  as  I  was  looking  for 
a  standing  place  in  the  world's  great  army  and  nothing 
seemed  to  promise  a  foothold.  If  I  was  not  tempted 
then  I  am  not  likely  to  be  tempted  now  when  I  have  a 
secure  position." 

"  You  mean  me  to  infer  that  you  love  him,"  Sherburne 
commented,  with  the  scornful  incredulity  of  youth. 

"  I  love  him,"  Gertrude  Maurice  said,  simply.  "  For 
a  year  and  more  I  have  been  comparing  him  with  other 
men  I  have  seen.  It  was  a  vague  ideal  in  my  mind,  and 
I  gave  it  no  personality  until  we  returned  to  the  city. 
But  when  I  met  him  again  I  knew  what  influence  had 
shaped  my  ideal." 

"  Well,  you  have  idealized  him  to  the  most  extravagant 
end.  Let  me  tell  you  that  you  will  be  bitterly  disap- 
pointed. I  can  see  how  a  girl  might  marry  a  man  double 
her  age,  but  that  she  should  set  him  above  everything, 
when  there  are  so  many  splendid  men  in  the  world  !  " 

"I   do   not   set    him   above   every  person.     I  admit 


A   DISCORD   OF  UNREASON.  223 

frankly  that  there  are  nobler,  better,  wiser,  grander  men 
in  the  world.  But  he  suits  me.  I  am  not  a  romantic 
girl.  I  should  have  to  admire  and  esteem  the  man  I 
love." 

"I  don't  see  what  you  find  in  him  to  admire,"  he 
flung  out,  angrily.  "He  is  generous  and  jolly  and  " — 
yes,  he  would  say  it — "commonplace." 

"  And  I  am  commonplace.  I  think  you  do  not  find  a 
great  many  people  in  the  world  like  Mrs.  Drayton,  even 
among  geniuses,"  and  she  smiled.  "And  Mrs.  Carew 
has  such  a  fine,  broad  standard,  and  is  so  interested  in 
the  regeneration  of  mankind,  indeed  all  the  greater  ques- 
tions of  life.  I  am  rather  frivolous  and  I  do  like  my  own 
gratification  in  the  things  that  please  me.  I  suppose  I 
am  selfish.  Mr.  Murray  has  a  good  deal  of  penetration 
and  understands  human  nature.  I  am  quite  sure  he  does 
not  idealize  me  at  all,  and  I  shall  not  have  to  live  up  to 
a  standard  that  requires  thought  and  care  every  moment 
of  one's  life.     It  would  wear  me  out." 

Her  tone  was  a  trifle  impatient. 

And  this  was  the  girl  he  had  thought  would  be  his  in- 
spiration ;  who  would  watch  every  effort,  who  would  not 
only  encourage  him  to  achieve  his  best,  but  would  bring 
her  own  best,  and  so  transfuse  it  into  his  life  that  it 
should  bear  fruit  about  which  there  should  be  no  ques- 
tion, no  claim.  Perhaps  Milton  embodied  the  dream  of 
illimitable  youth  in  his  often  quoted  line  : 

"  He  for  God  only,  she  for  God  in  him." 

"  O  if  you  are  going  to  reduce  marriage  to  this  com- 
monplace level — "  he  paused  and  looked  her  over  with 
his  superior  air — "well,  then  I  shall  be  sorry  for  Uncle 
Con.     He  is  worthy  of  something  better." 


224  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  I  think  we  get  from  each  other  those  qualities  and 
affections  that  we  are  capable  of  inspiring,  or  drawing 
out.  If  deep  answers  unto  deep,  how  much  more  shall 
soul  answer  to  soul.  But  the  cmestion  or  the  desire  must 
not  be  something  of  which  the  other  soul  is  ignorant." 

He  was  too  angry  for  any  deep  reasoning.  He  wanted 
to  hurt  her,  to  sting  her  in  some  way,  and  no  shaft  was 
sharp  enough.  He  wanted  to  show  her  that  he  despised 
her,  yet  down  in  his  heart  he.  felt  that  even  now  he  would 
take  her  if  he  could.  He  would  really  triumph  in  her 
throwing  over  Uncle  Con  for  himself.  He  was  incensed 
that  it  was  so. 

She  rose  with  a  certain  dignity. 

"We  shall  not  agree  upon  any  point,"  she  began,  in  a 
well-bred,  unemotional  tone.  "Only  you  will  remember 
that  in  our  first  talk  in  the  park  that  evening  I  was  frank 
and  honest  with  you.  I  said  then  I  did  not  love  you.  To 
make  any  marriage  I  hold  that  both  parties  should  love." 

"  And  you  said  you  had  no  lover." 

"I  had  none  then,"  she  answered,  proudly. 

"But  you  were  in  love  without  knowing  that  it  would 
be  returned  !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  an  accent  of  triumph. 

She  colored  warmly.  "  I  do  not  think  one  can  justly 
call  it  love.  One  does  not  feel  the  heat  of  the  blaze 
when  the  wood  is  simply  laid.  We  pass  by  more  than 
one  '  might  have  been,'  and  recognize  later  in  life  that 
they  were  among  the  things  that  never  really  were.  I 
had  no  thought  when  I  answered  you  that  Mr.  Murray 
would  choose  me  from  a  world  of  charming  women.  And 
I  am  glad  he  has.  That  is  the  measure  of  my  love  for 
him.     And  now  let  me  bid  you  good-night." 

Her  retreating  gesture  was  unmistakable.  He  bowed 
with  a  kind  of  ironical  loftiness,  but  uttered  no  word. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A    HARMONY    IN    GOLD. 

\\  7TTH  all  the  arrogance  and  inexperience  of  youth 
Sherburne  Beaumanoir  thought  he  had  gone 
through  a  fiery  trial  that  would  leave  a  mark  on  his 
whole  life.  He  had  been  deceived  in  the  woman  he 
could  have  loved,  nay,  did  love  to  a  certain  extent,  as 
far  as  one  could  love  in  the  face  of  denial.  He  began  to 
collect  and  treasure  up  the  moments  that  had  been  de- 
lightful, the  smiles  bestowed  upon  him,  the  quick  glances 
from  which  he  had  wrested  so  much  meaning,  the  little 
sentences  that  he  fancied  went  deep  into  the  true  state  of 
feeling. 

She  was  a  thorough-paced  coquette.  She  had  smiled 
on  others,  doubtless  used  the  same  charm  of  tongue  and 
eye.  All  the  time  she  had  been  warily  considering  the 
best  chances  for  marriage.  Of  course  she  would  never 
have  waited  three  or  four  years  for  him.  If  it  had  not 
been  Uncle  Con  it  would  have  been  some  one  else.  And 
in  the  plenitude  of  his  youthful  generosity  he  sincerely 
pitied  Uncle  Con. 

He  was  moody  and  careless.  Mrs.  Townsend's  doors 
could  not  open  any  further  welcome  to  him.  He  had 
barred  himself  out.  Yet  he  knew  now  that  he  had  en- 
joyed the  trenchant  talk,  the  music,  the  discussions 
where  intelligent  people  had  brought  out  some  of  their 
best.  He  found  it  also  at  Aunt  Millicent's,  but  there 
was  no  bright  appreciation  to  add  to  his  own,  no  one  to 
225 


226  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

translate  fun  or  wit  by  the  glance.  He  missed  her  every- 
where else.  And  yet  let  him  not  forget  that  she  was  a 
scheming,  ambitious  woman. 

Bertram  suffered  from  Sherburne's  unequal  and  irrita- 
ble temper,  and  he  missed  his  cheerful  assistance.  Aunt 
Lyndell  noted  the  change  and  tried  to  fathom  the  cause, 
but  he  guarded  his  secret  with  a  kind  of  resentful  pride. 
He  accepted  invitations  that  he  had  quietly  ignored  be- 
fore, and  he  soon  found  himself  a  favorite  in  society.  A 
handsome  young  fellow  who  could  dance  well  and  was 
unexceptionable,  was  not  likely  to  go  a  begging.  But  be- 
ing up  late  at  night  did  not  add  to  his  intellectual  im- 
provement. 

"I  don't  know  what  has  come  across  Sherburne," 
said  Doctor  Carew,  much  perplexed.  "  He  misses  lec- 
tures, his  work  is  only  half  done,  he  is  fitful  and  indif- 
ferent, and  a  day  or  two  ago  was  really  impertinent.  If 
he  does  not  want  to  study,  he  had  better  go  home.  The 
boys  complain  of  him." 

"  He  certainly  has  changed  in  a  month.  O  Bertram, 
do  you  remember  Gilford  Lepage?  It  is  a  shame  to  re- 
call anything  derogatory  to  a  man  who  has  so  nobly  re- 
deemed himself,  but  I  have  had  a  terrible  fear  about 
Sherburne " 

"No;  I  do  not  think  his  temptation  lies  that  way. 
Only  young  men  at  parties  and  suppers  do  drink  more 
wine  than  is  good  for  them  and  are  led  into  danger.  At 
the  first  sign  of  such  a  weakness,  I  should  send  him  home. 
But  a  young  man  who  means  to  do  anything  with  his  life 
cannot  go  to  dances  and  eat  late  suppers  every  night  and 
be  bright  and  fresh  in  the  morning.  Yet  I  do  not  want 
to  be  unduly  impatient.  Many  a  young  fellow  has  his 
fling  and  is  none  the  worse  for  it." 


A   HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  227 

"  And  we  must  remember  that  Sherburne  is  very  at- 
tractive, as  his  father  was  before  him." 

Doctor  Carew  smiled. 

"And  we  always  come  back  to  the  fact  that  Leonard 
has  made  a  fine  man,  and  take  courage.  There  is  nothing 
vicious  or  malevolent  in  Sherburne,  though  just  now  he 
indulges  in  a  good  deal  of  youthful  cynicism.  But  I  hate 
to  have  him  fall  behind  in  his  class,  when  he  could  do  so 
well." 

A  day  or  two  later  they  were  at  dinner  when  Lyndell 
glanced  up  with  a  mirthful  smile  and  said  suddenly 

"Guess  the  most  unlikely  person  in  the  circle  of  our 
friends  who  means  to  commit  matrimony !  I  was  so 
amazed ; — in  fact  I  am  not  quite  certain  yet  that  the  hero 
thereof  is  in  earnest.     Only  the  wedding  day  has  been  set. ' ' 

"Unlikely?"  repeated  Doctor  Carew.  "Then  that 
is  some  one  past  the  bloom  of  youth — one  of  your  pro- 
teges ? ' ' 

"  Some  one  I  have  known  from  my  youth  up ;  "  and  a 
mischievous  light  gleamed  from  the  brown  eyes. 

"  Uncle  Con,"  Sherburne  said,  with  the  air  of  having 
been  aware  of  it  a  long  time. 

"Con  Murray!"  Then  Doctor  Carew  broke  into  a 
heartsome  laugh.  "But  the  greater  puzzle  to  me  is  the 
person  on  whom  his  roving  fancy  has  settled." 

"  Do  you  really  think  his  fancy  has  roved  so  greatly? 
I  have  never  heard  of  his  being  engaged." 

"He  claims  to  have  had  many  disappointments." 

"  They  have  not  soured  him  evidently." 

"I  think  him  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  men,"  de- 
clared the  elder  physician.  "  I  can  hardly  imagine  any 
one  good  enough  for  him,  since  you  and  Milly  are  out  of 
the  race. ' ' 


228  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"O  papa  Carcw,  how  you  do  flatter!"  And  Dell 
bestowed  her  most  charming  smile  upon  him. 

"All  this  complimentary  talk  does  not  impart  any 
knowledge  of  the  fair  one  to  us.  I  want  to  know  whether 
it  is  wise,  or  whether  the  banns  ought  to  be  forbidden." 

"  It  certainly  isn't  wise,"  interposed  Sherburne.  "  But 
I  dare  say  no  one  will  be  able  to  forbid  it.  A  girl  half 
his  age  who  takes  him  because  she  is  sharp  enough  to 
know  a  good  opportunity." 

"  O  Sherburne,  you  really  do  not  do  her  justice,"  said 
Lyndell,  earnestly.  "I  thought  Miss  Maurice  rather 
frothy  and  superficial  at  first,  a  most  delightful  summer 
girl,  but  any  one  who  can  win  such  warm  encomiums 
from  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Townsend,  must  have  more  than 
ordinary  merit.     I  have  liked  her  very  much  this  winter." 

"Not  Gertie  Maurice,  my  girl!"  exclaimed  Bert 
Beaumanoir,  eagerly.  "  I  was  going  to  ask  her  presently 
to  wait  for  me.  It  wouldn't  be  near  so  much  on  the 
other  side." 

"A  dusty,  musty  professor  would  not  have  any  time 
to  devote  to  a  wife,"  said  Aunt  Lyndell. 

"  And  if  it  wasn't  out  of  order,  I'd  jump  up  and  clap 
hands  while  I  executed  a  double  shuffle,"  declared  Bert. 
"I'm  just  wild  with  delight.  You  know  she  comes  in 
Mrs.  Kenneth's  quite  often  and  she  is  always  so  gay  and 
jolly.  Why  didn't  Uncle  Con  stay  and  let  us  congratu- 
late him?  Auntie  Dell,  can't  you  ask  them  both  to 
dinner?" 

"Not  just  now,"  said  Mrs.  Carew.  "Miss  Maurice 
went  to  Delaware  this  morning,  and  in  a  few  days  Uncle 
Con  starts  for  Philadelphia  with  Mrs.  Townsend,  who  is 
to  address  some  convention  or  other.  Then  he  goes  on 
to  Freeport,  where  he  will  be  married.    From  thence  they 


A   HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  229 

go  to  Washington  and  Sherburne  House  and  return 
home." 

"  O,  it  is  too  bad  I  can't  see  her  !  They  ought  to  have 
let  us  know  it  long  before.  Sher,  where  did  you  hear 
of  it?" 

"Uncle  Con  told  me  soon  after  he  was  engaged.  I 
was  there  at  his  rooms  taking  supper.  I  can't  say  that  I 
did  Wke  it,"  replied  the  young  man,  with  caustic  dryness. 

"But  why?  Gertie's  splendid!  O,  I  say  !  think  of 
her  being  aunt  to  all  of  us  !  I  just  wish  we  could  go  to 
Robin's  Point  next  summer  and  have  it  all  over  again." 

"  I  do  not  believe  Uncle  Con  would  be  willing  to  have 
you  drag  her  around  as  you  did  that  summer.  She  cer- 
tainly had  the  best  temper  and  the  most  fertile  mind  for 
inventing  pleasures.  Yet  it  seems  a  little  queer.  And  I 
do  think  he  is  very  much  in  love  in  his  odd,  amusing 
way.  And  Con  was  my  hero  par  excellence.  O,  the 
lovely  old  times " 

A  certain  tenderness  suffused  Lyndell  Carew's  beautiful 
eyes. 

"O  Auntie  Dell,  do  tell  us  about  him  again  to-night. 
My  lessons  are  about  done." 

"  O  do,  mamma  !  "  said  a  chorus  of  voices. 

"Now  you  have  gotten  yourself  in  the  retrospection 
business,"  declared  the  doctor,  in  a  tone  of  amusement. 

"Auntie  Dell,"  began  Bertram,  "do  you  suppose  any 
girl  out  of  a  story  ever  had  so  many  things  happen  to 
her?  I  do  so  like  to  hear  about  that  old  time  when  you 
danced  under  the  apple-tree,  and  Grandmamma  Murray 
was  your  mamma,  because  the  beautiful  English  one  was 
dead.  Mamma  tells  us  about  it  sometimes.  And  all  the 
aunts  and  uncles  were  little  children.  Grandpapa  ought 
to  have  kept  the  little  old  house  and  the  apple-tree ' ' 


230  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  But  I  liked  that  about  the  dog  who  wouldn't  let  you 
go  that  morning " 

"And  the  running  away,"  said  Honor.  The  dessert 
was  finished  and  Honor  came  and  twined  her  arms 
around  her  mother's  neck.  "  O  mamma,  how  did  you 
have  the  courage  ?  ' ' 

"  I  like  best  the  getting  well  at  Grandpapa  Carew's," 
and  shy  Millicent  came  to  Aunt  Neale  and  patted  her 
soft,  white  hair.  "I  always  think  of  it  when  I  read  Pil- 
grim's Progress.  And  the  chamber  whose  name  was 
Peace.     And  Aunt  Milly  bringing  the  lovely  gown." 

"  If  it  was  not  for  the  '  two  or  three  witnesses '  I  should 
think  I  was  drawing  on  my  imagination,"  declared  Lyn- 
dell,  glancing  up  at  her  husband.  "  O,  children,  chil- 
dren !  " 

They  thronged  about  her  now  as  they  often  did  and 
she  could  hardly  step  this  way  or  that.  Sherburne  rose 
haughtily,  vexed  that  the  announcement  of  Uncle  Con's 
marriage  had  called  forth  no  animadversion,  and  that  no 
one  had  seen  through  the  scheming  Miss  Maurice.  Ran- 
dolph Carew  pleaded  an  engagement  with  a  neighboring 
friend  where  he  often  spent  his  evenings,  and  the  crowd 
of  children  led  their  mother  to  the  sitting-room  and 
gathered  about  her,  putting  cushions  on  the  floor  so  they 
could  surround  her  and  clasp  her  hand  and  put  a  cheek 
on  her  knee  or  even  caress  her  gown.  They  never  tired 
of  hearing  about  their  mother's  young  life,  and  Uncle 
Con  and  Aunt  Tessy.  But  it  took  Uncle  Con  to  do  the 
subject  full  justice. 

He  was  very  busy  during  the  few  intervening  days. 
The  tenant  fortunately  wanted  to  go  out  of  his  house, 
having  business  elsewhere.  There  were  repairs  to  be 
made  but  the  furnishing  would  be  left  until  their  return. 


A  HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  231 

Gertrude  had  felt  afraid  at  first  that  the  marriage  would 
be  appointed  for  some  church  in  the  city,  and  was  quite 
delighted  when  Mr.  Murray  assented  so  readily  to  her 
proposal. 

"  It  is  a  benighted  little  country  town,"  she  explained. 
"And  yet  if  there  is  any  virtue  in  antiquity,  there  are 
families  who  have  lived  there  two  or  three  hundred  years, 
with  pedigrees  that  would  drive  some  people  about  here 
wild  with  envy.  But  I  often  think  of  the  toad  that  was 
buried  in  some  Egyptian  place  or  mummy  pyramid  and 
came  to  life,  and  was  only  a  toad  after  all.  The  cycles 
of  Cathay  are  not  everything.  Mamma  is  very  proud  of 
our  family,  and  papa,  who  missed  the  fortune,  had  only 
one  relative  in  the  world  that  we  ever  knew  of." 

Mrs.  Maurice  was  very  much  gratified  by  the  announce- 
ment of  her  daughter's  engagement,  only  she  did  not  quite 
see  why  Mr.  Murray  could  not  have  made  up  his  mind 
that  first  summer,  and  so  spared  Gertrude  all  these  months 
of  servitude  that  she  should  hate  to  remember,  no  matter 
how  pleasant  they  had  been  to  the  girl,  or  how  much  she 
had  gained  by  the  experience.  Agnes  was  delighted,  and 
took  upon  herself  the  preparations  for  the  wedding,  which 
were  to  be  very  simple.  Gertrude  would  come  home  a 
week  before.  Mr.  Murray  would  reach  Freeport  in  the 
morning,  and  the  marriage  would  be  at  noon. 

It  was  with  curiously  contradictory  emotions  that  Ger- 
trude returned  home  this  time.  She  knew  now  that  she 
had  grown  entirely  out  of  the  old  life,  and  she  wondered 
if  she  had  a  right  to  do  this  ?  And  she  also  understood 
that  it  would  be  useless  to  try  to  raise  any  of  the  others 
to  her  standard.  The  kindest  and  truest  love  would  be 
to  make  them  happy  in  their  own  way  if  that  could  be 
done.    There  were  limitations  to  all  natures.    Mrs.  Dray- 


232  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

ton  recognized  that  principle  in  her  dealing  with  ambi- 
tious young  people  who  sighed  for  a  career.  Mrs.  Town- 
send  did  the  same,  though  she  had  less  patience  with 
would-be  geniuses. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  to  be  drawn  from 
common  things,  and  in  a  certain  way  it  did  demand  a  fine 
order  of  appreciation,  and  combination.  Her  mother's 
satisfaction  would  rest  chiefly  in  the  fact  that  her  five 
daughters  had  married,  for  she  would  not  be  quite  con- 
tent if  one  of  them  remained  single.  Agnes'  delight  was 
in  a  home  that  was  truly  her  own.  She  made  it  a  centre 
from  which  to  radiate  all  benign  influences.  She,  Ger- 
trude, had  ceased  to  question  whether  Agnes  loved  Mr. 
Rowdon  or  not  from  the  simple  fact  that  when  she  ac- 
cepted a  duty  she  performed  it  religiously.  She  was  not 
given  to  straying  out  of  her  pasture,  she  lingered  under 
shady  trees  when  the  midday  sun  was  hot,  she  found  the 
choicest  bits  of  grass  and  clover  blooms.  Could  one 
control  love?  Perhaps  the  mistake  was  in  considering 
ideal  love  the  only  kind. 

Agnes  and  Luella  came  down  to  meet  her.  Agnes 
took  in  her  radiant  eyes,  the  softened  expression  about 
her  mouth  and  the  general  impression  of  happiness.  Lu 
wondered  how  she  had  made  her  complexion  so  fine  and 
clear,  and  at  the  plumes  that  nodded  on  her  hat,  the 
velvet  roses  drooping  at  the  back,  the  fur-trimmed  coat 
that  fitted  her  jauntily ;  and  the  cloth  gown  with  its  un- 
mistakable style. 

The  only  thing  that  had  changed  much  at  home  was 
Elsie,  who  had  shot  up  into  a  tall  girl.  She  went  to 
school  of  course,  but  to  Agnes'  sorrow  she  was  not  bright 
at  her  books.  The  entertaining  weeklies  that  Gertrude 
sent  home  had  no  interest  for  her  outside  of  the  cooking 


A   HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  233 

and  housewifely  column.  They  had  achieved  a  fine  look- 
ing, rather  elderly  colored  woman,  who  never  objected  to 
younger  hands  sharing  her  work.  But  Mr.  Maurice  was 
well  cared  for,  and  gaining  a  little  in  flesh. 

Mrs.  Maurice  kept  mostly  to  her  room  during  the  cold 
months,  and  had  a  cheerful  log  fire  on  the  hearth.  She 
still  darned  her  laces  and  the  tablecloths,  she  read  and 
dozed  and  carped  at  all  things,  and  bewailed  the  fact  of 
the  lost  fortune.  She  received  Gertrude  with  a  great 
deal  of  impressiveness,  since  her  opportunities  in  the 
great  world  had  culminated  in  marriage. 

"  Though  I  do  think  he  might  have  paid  us  a  little 
more  attention  than  just  to  come  the  morning  of  the 
marriage,"  she  said,  when  Gertrude  had  laid  aside  her 
hat  and  coat  and  seated  herself  in  the  glow  of  the  cheer- 
ful blaze.  "  His  letter  to  your  father  was  very  proper 
and  respectful,  but  I  should  like  the  town  to  know  there 
was  absolutely  nothing  reprehensible  or  ungentlemanly 
about  him.  And  we  really  shall  not  get  acquainted  with 
him  at  all.  When  one's  daughters  marry,  a  mother  feels 
that  she  would  like  to  know  the  sort  of  man  to  whom  she 
is  trusting  her  child." 

The  weak,  complaining  tone  was  what  Gertrude  had 
heard  all  her  life,  but  this  aspect  of  the  case  had  not 
presented  itself  with  any  special  force.  She  had  written 
freely  to  Agnes  about  Mr.  Murray,  she  had  sent  several 
dutiful  letters  to  her  mother  on  the  subject. 

"  He  is  a  very  busy  man,  mamma,  and  it  would  have 
been  hard  for  me  to  get  away,  since  I  was  to  resign  my 
position.  If  I  had  been  living  at  home  he  would  have 
visited  me  here  of  course." 

"And  you  know  I  never  did  approve  of  this  chasing 
round  the  world  when  one  has  a  home.    It  robs  a  woman 


234  THE  HEIR    QE  SHERBURNE. 

of  delicacy  and  self-respect,  and  I  think  a  man  never 
feels  quite  the  same  about  her.  The  proper  thing  would 
have  been  for  you  to  come  home  as  soon  as  you  were 
engaged." 

To  miss  that  delicious  informality  of  calls  morning 
noon  or  night,  just  as  Mr.  Murray  had  half  an  hour's 
leisure,  would  have  taken  away  half  the  charm  of  the 
engagement.  And  truth  to  tell  she  needed  her  salary 
for  her  wedding  outfit. 

"  But  Mrs.  Townsend  was  like  a  mother  to  me,"  she 
interposed. 

"No  woman  can  be  like  a  mother  who  has  never  had 
a  child.  What  does  she  know  of  the  responsibilities, 
the  anxieties  ?  And  a  person  who  has  no  more  refined 
and  womanly  aim  than  running  about  the  world  and 
lecturing  on  all  sorts  of  subjects  !  I  have  often  felt  that 
it  was  not  a  suitable  place  for  you,  but  you  would  have 
your  own  way. ' ' 

Gertrude  made  no  reply.  She  could  have  persuaded 
Mr.  Murray  to  come  before,  but  she  had  admitted  that 
the  town  was  dull,  the  hotel  very  primitive,  and  she 
knew  they  could  not  well  entertain  a  man  used  to  all  the 
appliances  of  rather  luxurious  living.  She  had  tried 
hard  not  to  have  any  sense  of  shame  about  the  poverty, 
the  sort  of  slipshod  living,  the  lack  of  the  little  observ- 
ances of  society,  and  her  mother's  inconsequence  as  well 
as  the  quality  that  seemed  so  like  pretentiousness.  A 
young  man  might  have  amused  himself,  she  really  was 
afraid  it  would  prove  tiresome  to  Mr.  Murray,  since  they 
could  not  well  go  rambling  about  or  sit  out  of  doors. 

Her  father  appeared  heartily  delighted.  She  spent 
much  of  her  time  with  Agnes  who  had  planned  every- 
thing out,  it  seemed.     Luella  was  to  be  maid  of  honor  in 


A   HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  235 

a  light  blue  cashmere  gown  and  picture  hat ;  the  little 
girls  were  to  wear  white  over  pink  slips  and  carry  baskets 
of  flowers.  Gertrude  had  announced  in  the  beginning 
that  she  was  to  be  married  in  a  dark  blue  cloth  traveling 
costume,  and  blue  hat,  and  go  away  directly,  but  she  did 
finally  consent  to  returning  home  for  a  half  hour  and 
cutting  the  bride  cake. 

"If  it  could  have  been  in  the  evening  so  that  we 
might  have  had  a  dance,"  complained  Luella,  a  little 
hurt  also  that  she  was  not  to  walk  up  the  aisle  with  an 
attendant. 

That  there  was  no  wedding  trousseau  to  be  shown  and 
no  gifts  to  amaze  the  townspeople  was  another  grievance 
to  Mrs.  Maurice.  Still,  she  had  to  admit  that  her  son- 
in-law  was  distinguished  looking  and  unexceptionable; 
cordial  in  his  manner,  and  with  no  superior  airs.  She 
put  on  her  black  velvet  gown  and  point  lace,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  all  the  town  turned  out  at  the  church  and 
dropped  in  to  the  reception. 

"I  like  him  so  much,"  Agnes  said.  "I  am  sure  you 
will  be  happy.  And  Gertie,  there  is  no  pleasure  like 
one's  own  home." 

Con  Murray  put  his  wife  in  the  seat  by  the  window, 
and  sat  down  beside  her,  as  they  were  starting  out  on 
their  new  life.  Then  he  smiled  at  her  and  she  thought 
there  was  no  blessing  in  life  like  love. 

They  were  still  in  the  midst  of  gayeties  at  Washington. 
Congress  had  been  more  than  usually  interesting,  and 
there  had  been  an  influx  of  foreign  visitors.  As  soon  as 
Princess  had  gone  home  she  had  been  sent  for  as  there 
was  something  special  that  might  never  occur  again. 
And  now  Mrs.  Beaumanoir  had  come  up,  as  much  to 
welcome  Uncle  Con's  wife  as  to  have  a  glimpse  of  the 


236  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

giddy  whirl.  Gertrude  found  herself  received  with  a 
cordiality  that  touched  her,  knowing  the  fine  quality  of 
these  people. 

"  And  when  you  see  how  happy  I  mean  to  make  him, 
and  how  much  I  shall  love  him,  Princess,"  Gertrude 
exclaimed,  when  the  young  girl  had  come  in  to  dine  and 
go  to  the  theatre  afterward  with  them,  as  Uncle  Con  de- 
clared he  wanted  one  little  bit  of  her  all  to  himself, 
"  you  will  quite  forgive  me  for  taking  him.  And  we  are 
going  to  have  a  pretty  home  and  gather  all  the  girls  in  it 
as  Mrs.  Drayton  does.  We  count  on  a  great  deal  of 
you." 

Princess  colored  delicately. 

"I  want  you  to  forget  that,"  she  said,  in  a  soft,  ap- 
pealing tone.  "  I  was  hurt  and  jealous,  for  I  thought 
then  no  one  had  so  good  a  right  to  Uncle  Con  as  I. 
Somehow  we  had  never  thought  of  his  caring  for  any 
one.  It  was  not  because  it  wasjw/.  I  should  have  felt 
the  same  about  Ruth  or  Kitty  Saxon.  And  the  knowl- 
edge came  so  suddenly  upon  me.  But  I  am  older  and 
ever  so  much  wiser,  and  when  I  knew  that  he  cared  for 
you  and  wanted  you  in  his  life —  O  Gertie,  I  am  afraid 
I  never  could  have  forgiven  you  then  if  you  had  not 
loved  him.     And  I  was  so  glad ' ' 

There  were  tears  in  her  beautiful  eyes,  yet  she  smiled 
through  them  like  sunshine  in  a  summer  shower.  Ger- 
trude clasped  her  in  her  arms. 

"  And  it  was  your  lovely  generosity  that  brought  it  all 
about.  I  sometimes  wonder  what  my  life  would  have 
been  if  you  had  not  invited  me  to  your  splendid  island  ! 
Do  you  realize  what  munificent  things  you  have  done  out 
of  your  unselfish  soul,  your  desire  that  other  people  shall 
be  happy?     So  few  think   of  it.     It  has  made  my  life 


A   HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  237 

radiantly  complete,  it  has  blessed  Ruth  Ensign  and  given 
her  the  dearest  friend,  a  second  mother.  O,  do  you 
ever  hear  about  Kitty  Saxon  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,"  answered  Princess,  coloring  vividly.  Kitty's 
letters  were  peans  of  thanksgiving  for  all  she  had  learned 
and  enjoyed  that  summer.  She  was  living  a  nobler, 
truer  life,  learning  the  duties  of  sister  and  daughter. 
Sometimes  Princess  read  parts  of  them  aloud  to  her 
mother,  but  the  adoring  praise  from  the  full  heart  was 
meant  for  no  eyes  but  hers  and  therefore  sacred. 

"Kitty  is  very  well  and  happy  though  nothing  re- 
markable has  happened  to  her.  But  it  is  queer,"  and  she 
glanced  up  archly,  "  it  was  Uncle  Con's  idea  altogether, 
the  very  goodness  of  it.  He  proposed  we  should  invite 
some  girls  who  were  not  likely  to  have  a  summering  else- 
where." 

"  And  we  never  quite  know  all  that  will  come  out  of  a 
little  kindness.  It  makes  us  quite  humble  and  ashamed 
sometimes  that  we  do  not  do  more  little  things  instead  of 
waiting  to  do  the  great  ones.  Is  that  the  weak  things  of 
the  world  confounding  the  wise  ?  " 

Certainly  Uncle  Con  was  very  happy,  and  Gertie  for  all 
her  fun  and  nonsense  adored  him. 

Princess  wondered  at  times  why  the  adoration,  and  the 
knowledge  that  another  had  the  best  right  to  her  favorite 
uncle  gave  her  no  pain.  He  was  still  as  charming  and 
devoted  to  her.  And  the  old  plan  that  she  should  be  the 
housekeeper  in  his  pretty  home  would  have  been  quite 
impracticable.  She  had  so  many  duties  to  others.  It 
was  such  a  busy,  happy  world — yes,  she  was  quite  sure  it 
was  happy. 

There  was  a  rather  long  wait  between  the  second  and 
third  scene  of  the  play  that  evening.     Some  one  came 


238  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

down  the  aisle  and  paused  to  speak  to  Mr.  Murray. 
Princess'  face  was  in  a  rosy  flush.  Gertrude  felt  rather 
than  saw  it. 

This  was  Mr.  Sevier.  Mr.  Murray  had  met  him  the 
day  before  and  now  introduced  him  to  Gertrude.  Then 
he  leaned  over  and  spoke  to  Princess. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  asked,  presently,  of  the  gentleman  sit- 
ting next  to  Princess,  "if  1  could  induce  you  to  change 
seats  with  me.  Mine  is  on  the  east  aisle  and  equally  de- 
sirable." 

"Oh,  with  pleasure,"  and  the  gentleman  rose  as  he 
thought,  "  This  must  be  that  pretty  little  girl's  lover." 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  said  Mr.  Sevier. 

He  took  the  seat  and  began  a  low  conversation  with 
Princess.  He  had  been  delighted  to  meet  Mr.  Murray, 
whom  he  had  heard  of  through  various  channels,  and 
had  seen  the  notice  of  his  marriage  in  the  papers,  as  he 
was  in  some  degree  public  property. 

"What  a  pretty  young  wife,"  he  continued  with  a 
smile. 

Was  she  pretty?  Yes,  she  looked  so  now  with  that 
serene  and  joyous  smile. 

"She  was  my  schoolmate,"  Princess  answered. 

"  And  is  she  going  to  be  aunt  to  all  you  girls?  "  he 
asked  in  an  amused  tone. 

"O  no,"  smilingly.  "He  is  mamma's  brother,  so 
he  has  only  us  Beaumanoirs  in  his  train." 

Mr.  Sevier  nodded. 

"  I  have  not  seen  you  since  Sunday.  Where  have  you 
hidden  yourself  away  ?  " 

It  was  a  very  tender  tone  even  if  it  was  a  whisper. 

"  Mamma  came  up.  And  we  have  been  so  engrossed 
with  my  uncle." 


A  HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  239 

"  I  heard  you  were  coming  here  to-night.  I  bought 
out  a  friend's  interest  on  the  chance  of  seeing  you.  But 
I  began  to  think  I  never  should  find  you.  That  large 
woman  over  yonder  in  the  velvet  coat  hid  you  from  my 
view." 

Princess  leaned  over  a  little  to  look. 

"And  you  were  not  at  Mrs.  Headley's  last  evening." 

The  tone  bespoke  regret  that  was  nattering,  yet  Prin- 
cess did  not  rejoice  in  it. 

"  We  found  we  had  to  send  regrets  in  the  morning." 

"I  didn't  stay  at  all  late.  I  missed  you  and  your 
cotisins  in  the  dances." 

Mr.  Sevier  had  a  true  Southerner's  love  for  dancing. 

"But  there  were  other  girls  that  danced,"  she  re- 
turned, archly,  compelling  herself  to  smile  carelessly. 

He  made  a  just  perceptible  motion  of  the  shoulders. 

Then  the  curtain  went  up.  They  had  come  to  the 
love  scene  of  the  play,  that  was  almost  a  tragedy.  The 
exquisite  color  of  youth  and  sympathy,  and  perhaps  a 
deeper  feeling  kept  wandering  over  the  sweet  girl  face. 
But  at  last  triumphant  love  was  crowned  victor. 

"I  was  afraid  it  was  not  going  to  end  right,"  Mr. 
Sevier  said,  with  a  little  catch  in  his  voice.  "  Plays  have 
no  excuse  for  ending  unhappily." 

"I  suppose  real  life  has  at  times,"  Princess  replied, 
gravely. 

"Love  ought  always  to  bring  happiness  in  the  end. 
The  trials  enhance  the  real  value  and  strength  of  it.  I 
know  of  course  that  it  does  not. ' ' 

They  were  pouring  out  into  the  aisles,  friends  bowing  or 
speaking  briefly.  Mr.  Murray  glanced  over  Gertrude's 
shoulder  and  nodded  assenting] y  to  the  young  man  who 
took  upon  himself  the  protection  of  Princess. 


240  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"Let  us  go  and  have* a  little  refreshment,"  Mr. 
Murray  said.  "I  am  thankful  the  wisacres  have  decided 
it  is  a  good  thing  to  eat  late  in  the  evening  or  before  re- 
tiring. When  your  sympathies  have  been  wrought  upon 
there  is  a  drain  in  the  physical.  Did  you  ever  consider, 
Mr.  Sevier,  how  many  theories  there  are  in  regard  to 
what  you  must  do  or  refrain  from,  to  keep  the  feeble 
spark  of  life  in  good  shining  order.  Every  few  years 
there  is  a  revolution  and  the  old  regulations  are  cast  out. 
We  still  live.  I  believe  there  are  more  deaths  of  old 
people  now  than  any  time  in  the  previous  history  of  the 
world." 

"  Then  it  would  appear  that  old  age  is  the  thing  we 
should  beware  of,  since  that  seems  most  fatal." 

Mr.  Murray  laughed.  "There  are  no  old  people  any 
more  until  you  do  come  to  the  death  rate,"  he  returned. 

They  had  a  rather  jolly  little  supper,  and  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  hotel  Mr.  Sevier  said  "good-night." 

"I  have  been  hearing  strange  tales  of  you,  demure 
little  Miss  Princess,"  began  her  uncle,  in  a  teasing  tone 
of  confidence.  "  Pearl  declared  this  morning  that  you 
had  more  admirers  than  the  other  girls,  and  that  every 
time  you  went  home  there  were  so  many  lamentations 
they  were  forced  to  recall  you  at  once.  I  did  admire  the 
aplomb  of  this  young  man  to-night  in  asking  a  stranger 
to  change  seats  with  him." 

"'Nothing  venture  nothing  have,'"  appended  Ger- 
trude. 

"  He  seems  a  very  nice  young  fellow.  But  I  expect  to 
carry  you  up  to  the  city  with  me.  Will  Washington  be 
shrouded  in  mourning,  or  will  they  follow  us?  " 

"They  are  not  in  such  solemn  earnest  as  that,"  re- 
turned Princess,  lightly. 


A   HARMONY  IN  GOLD.  24 1 

She  was  to  stay  with  them.  After  Gertrude  had  seen 
her  disposed  of  for  the  night,  as  she  stood  taking  pins  out 
of  her  laces  and  her  hair,  she  said, 

"Mr.  Sevier  is  very  much  in  earnest.  I  do  wonder  if 
Princess " 

"  Princess  is  hardly  out  of  childhood.     The  idea  !  " 

"Girlhood,  you  mean.  And  girls  have  fancies,  and 
fancies  ripen  in  congenial  soil." 

"  During  the  honeymoon  it  is  your  bounden  duty  to 
pay' attention  to  your  own  love-making,"  he  said,  with 
some  half-laughing  kisses. 

"  And  have  no  eyes  or  ears  for  any  one'  beside " 

"  Your  own  familiar  tyrant." 

But  he  was  thinking  how  strange  it  was  for  little  Prin- 
cess to  be  grown  up  enough  to  have  a  lover  when  it 
seemed  only  the  other  day  that  his  sister  Tessy  was  mar- 
ried to  Leonard  Beaumanoir.  But  then  Sherburne  was 
old  enough  to  have  a  fling  at  the  tree  of  knowledge. 
How  the  years  had  run  on  !  Children  were  the  dial 
marks. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TOLD    IN    A   GLANCE. 

44  T    ISTEN  to  this,"  said  Mr.  Murray  the  following 

-^-*  morning,  as  they  sat  over  their  breakfast.  ' '  The 
next  lecture  in  the  Smithsonian  course  is  to  be  to-night. 
And  I  have  a  mind  to  make  you  guess  who  is  to  distin- 
guish himself." 

"Because  you  think  I  have  all  the  lecturers  of  note 
written  down  in  the  back  part  of  my  brain?"  asked 
Gertrude,  saucily.  "Let  me  see — this  is  scientific,  so  it 
is  not  Mrs.  Townsend." 

"  You  ungrateful  girl  !  I  have  half  a  mind  to  report 
you.     Now  Princess  !     She  has  lost  her  chance." 

"  Uncle  Carew.  He  was  here  in  the  early  part  of  the 
winter  and  addressed  some  convention." 

"You  certainly  will  not  make  your  fortune  at  guessing 
how  many  beans  there  are  in  the  jar." 

"But  we  can  both  tell  how  many  black  beans  make 
five,"  retorted  Princess.  "This  is  a  problem.  The 
other  mere  guesswork." 

"  How  trivial  and  inconsequent  you  both  are  !  And 
how  soon  old  friends  fade  out  of  mind.  Now  in  the  sum- 
mer I  remember  so  well  that  I  could  recall  nearly  every 
one  who  figured  in  it,  when  you  girls,  like  a  flock  of 
sheep,  went  star-gazing  and  peered  into  closets  and  wash- 
bowls, and  pans  and  cups,  to  see  the  beginnings  of  things, 
and  you  have  forgotten  the  leader  thereof." 

"  O,  not  Professor  Kenneth  !  "  cried  Gertrude. 

"Why  not,  I  should  like  to  know?  Have  you  fallen 
242 


TOLD    IN  A    GLANCE.  243 

so  far  from  your  first  ideal  that  you  cannot  admit  any 
wisdom  remaining  in  it  ?  " 

"  He  was  not  my  ideal  that  I  remember,"  said  the 
young  wife.  "  I  really  think,  then,  it  was  Bert  Beauma- 
noir,  but  he  had  a  divided  heart  for  me.  Can't  we  go 
and  hear  him  ?     Princess,  wouldn't  you  like  to?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Princess,  under  her  breath,  with  a  sound 
almost  like  a  sigh.  It  was  not  what  she  had  meant  to 
say,  and  now  she  was  chilled  with  a  sort  of  surprise  that 
she  had  uttered  it. 

"  If  there  are  no  other  engagements,"  she*continued, 
recovering  her  self-possession,  and  wondering  if  she  had 
turned  pale. 

"  That  is  quite  odd.  O,  let  us  go  by  all  means.  How 
do  you  get  admitted?"  and  Gertrude  glanced  up. 

"  I  shall  manage  it  some  way.     O " 

The  waiter  handed  him  a  card.  He  glanced  at  it. 
"Bring  the  lady  up  here,  and  some  hot  coffee,"  he  or- 
dered. 

The  lady  was  Mrs.  Beaumanoir. 

"  O  you  lazy  people,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  am  a  fairy 
godmother  who  has  come  in  a  carriage,  and  it  is  a  fine, 
sunny  morning  for  driving.  Aunt  Julia  and  Ray  offer 
you  a  luncheon  as  a  reward  for  a  visit.  Violet  has  sent 
the  carriage  to  be  returned  at  one." 

"Capital.  Take  the  ladies  and  I  will  join  you  at 
lunch.  And  Tessy,  Professor  Kenneth  lectures  to-night. 
Let  us  go  and  give  him  a  welcome." 

"O  yes,  and  hear  direct  from  the  boys.  How  did 
you  know  it?" 

He  passed  her  over  the  paper  and  poured  out  a  cup  of 
coffee. 

"  If  you  are  going  to  drive  you  will  need  something  to 


244  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

stir  your  blood.  Meanwhile  I  will  find  out  about  this, 
and  get  admittance  for  half  a  dozen.  When  he  catches 
sight  of  our  eager  faces,  he  will  feel  inspired.  Then  I 
have  some  other  matters  on  hand.     The  day  wanes." 

They  all  rose.  It  was  a  magnificent  morning,  ami 
Gertrude's  one  previous  visit  to  Washington  had  been 
brief  and  hurried.  This  was  delightful.  The  moments 
flew  by  on  wings ;  there  was  so  much  to  see  that  they 
were  a  little  late  and  found  Mr.  Murray  before  them. 
He  had  also  invited  Ray  to  join  their  evening  entertain- 
ment, and  she  had  accepted  with  delight. 

They  dismissed  the  carriage,  as  they  meant  to  have  a 
little  visit  with  Aunt  Julia. 

"It's  so  odd  to  think  Gertie  Maurice  should  be  your 
uncle's  wife,"  exclaimed  Ray,  with  a  half  eager,  half  sur- 
prised light  in  her  eyes.  "  She  has  grown  prettier,  I  am 
sure.  I  was  once  a  little  jealous  that  Uncle  Win  should 
admire  her.  What  silly  things  girls  are !  Except  you, 
Princess.     You  were  always  sweet  and  wise." 

"Not  always,"  said  Princess,  faintly. 

"  And  you  like  her  ?     You  do  not  really  mind  ?  " 

"I  am  afraid  I  was  a  little  jealous  once,  as  well." 
Princess  laughed  and  flushed.  "  But  she  docs  suit  Uncle 
Con,  and  he  loves  her.  I  think  they  will  be  very 
happy." 

"If  she  loves  him.  You  know  we  never  did  quite 
make  her  out.  But  you  had  her  all  the  summer  at  Mel- 
chias.  O,  I  shall  be  just  delighted  to  see  Professor  Ken- 
neth. And  Mrs.  Kenneth  sent  me  such  a  lovely  invita- 
tion to  visit  them.  Do  you  mean  to  go  up  to  the  city, 
Princess?     Uncle  Con  says  he  intends  to  take  you." 

"  O,  I  must  go  home.     I  have  been  away  so  much." 

Princess  seemed   to  herself  in   a  sort  of  dream.     She 


TOLD  IN  A   GLANCE.  245 

talked  and  said  all  the  bright  things  that  came  into  her 
mind,  but  there  was  another  side  to  her  that  did  not  seem 
to  warm  up  with  all  the  gayety.  Uncle  Con  made  a  good 
story  out  of  the  way  Mr.  Sevier  had  appropriated  her, 
and  Ray  gave  instances  of  his  devotion  that  brought  a 
bright  color  to  her  cheek. 

She  had  let  it  go  on  with  a  vague  sort  of  consciousness 
that  fate  determined  many  things.  She  had  been  much 
admired,  and  of  all  the  people  she  had  met,  Mr.  Sevier 
pleased  her  most.  She  had  more  than  once  sheltered 
herself  from  other  obtrusive  attentions  under  the  shadow 
of  his  regard. 

Her  father  had  been  proud  of  her  pretty  successes, 
much  prouder  than  she  knew.  His  disappointment  about 
Sherburne  did  not  decrease  as  time  went  on,  the  oppor- 
tunity the  boy  had  thrown  aside  grew  more  important 
every  day.  And  then  Doctor  Carew  really  was  not  en- 
thusiastic over  him,  while  he  had  no  end  of  praise  for 
Bertram.  So  he  had  come  to  take  a  very  fervent  interest 
in  his  sweet,  attractive  daughter,  and  he  liked  young 
Sevier,  who  had  a  good  family  and  some  money  back  of 
him,  and  was  quite  a  favorite  with  society  mammas.  He 
had  a  feeling  of  elation  that  Princess  could  hold  her  own 
so  well  with  Pearl.  And  girls  married  sooner  or  later. 
Marriage  really  was  best  for  them.  His  sister,  Fanny, 
had  gained  nothing  by  staying  single,  he  remembered. 
She  had  been  twice  as  lovable  and  attractive  after  she 
was  married. 

Princess  would  fain  have  excused  herself  from  joining 
the  party,  but  there  was  not  a  shadow  of  pretext.  She 
had  done  nothing  to  tire  herself  out,  she  could  not  even 
conjure  up  a  headache.  There  was  some  inexplicable 
shrinking  that  she  was  afraid  to  look  into  closely  enough 


246  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

to  give  a  reason.  The  Christmas  visit  had  tried  her  reso- 
lution, but  she  was  growing  more  steadfast  in  the  path 
she  considered  honorable.  If  the  engagement  of  Ruth 
could  once  be  announced,  she  would  have  courage 
enough  to  go  on  bravely. 

There  certainly  was  a  fine  audience.  Intelligence  was 
well  represented,  and  society  was  not  in  the  background. 
The  winter's  "fad"  had  been  a  renewed  interest  in  in- 
tellectual pursuits. 

Professor  Kenneth  had  taken  on  a  little  more  flesh, 
and  stood  much  more  erect.  Home  life  had  developed 
the  silent  side  of  his  nature,  and  his  sister-in-law's  in- 
fluence was  slowly  evolving  the  attractive  man  lying 
dormant.  He  had  come  to  understand  that  mere  per- 
sonality had  much  to  do  with  enforcing  truths  and  gain- 
ing attention,  and  that  any  advantage  satisfactorily  used 
for  the  good  of  mankind  did  not  tend  to  personal  vanity. 
He  was  so  much  more  interesting  than  some  of  the  re- 
cent speakers  that  he  really  delighted  his  audience. 

Now  and  then  he  half  paused  to  appeal  to  his  hearers, 
and  in  doing  this  he  caught  sight  of  Mr.  Murray.  He 
glanced  again.  That  must  be  his  wife.  There  was  Mrs. 
Beaumanoir  and  Ray  Stanwood  and — yes,  Princess,  who 
had  been  so  interested  in  all  these  subjects  at  Melchias. 
A  thrill  of  pleasure  sped  through  him  that  they  had 
cared  to  come,  and  he  received  a  new  inspiration,  his 
voice  had  a  clearer  sound. 

There  was  some  applause  when  he  had  finished.  He 
begged  his  immediate  friends  to  excuse  him  a  moment 
and  hurried  down,  for  he  saw  the  party  were  in  no  haste 
to  leave. 

"  What  a  pleasant  rencounter,"  he  exclaimed,  taking 
Mr.    Murray's    hand.     You  surprised   all   your    friends 


TOLD  IN  A    GLANCE.  247 

finely,  but  I  suppose  congratulations  are  not  amiss.  You 
have  many  heartsome  wishes,  Mrs.  Murray,  from  your 
old  friends.     And  Mrs.  Beaumanoir " 

As  he  took  Princess'  small  hand  in  his,  their  eyes  met. 
She  was  utterly  unconscious  of  the  betraying  sweetness 
in  hers,  but  she  saw  the  knowledge  in  his  that  she  knew 
then  her  heart  had  hungered  for.  She  forgot  Ruth, 
everything  in  the  overwhelming  revelation.  He  felt  the 
hand  tremble  in  his,  he  longed  to  hold  it  but  there  was 
Miss  Stanwood  with  her  charming  smile. 

They  all  seemed  to  talk  together  as  they  went  down 
the  aisle,  quite  in  the  rear  of  the  crowd. 

"  It  was  a  great  surprise,"  Mr.  Murray  was  explaining. 
"  I  saw  it  in  this  morning's  paper,  and  I  said  we  must 
come  to  swell  the  audience  so  you  would  not  be  chilled 
by  empty  seats.  But  we  might  have  saved  our  pity. 
You  had  a  very  appreciative  assemblage." 

"  I  am  thankful  for  the  pity,  even,  if  that  brought  you," 
smiling  with  a  transfiguring  gladness. 

"O,  the  girls  were  eager  for  a  chance  to  fill  their 
minds  once  more  with  solid  substance,  after  dancing  and 
flirting  all  winter.     Do  you  rush  back  to-night?  " 

"O  no.  I  have  to  attend  a  meeting  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, and  I  dine  at  night  with  some  guests  from  Germany. 
Meanwhile — may  I  call  upon  you,  Mrs.  Beaumanoir  ? 
Are  you  all  staying  together?  " 

Tessy  really  longed  to  see  him.  He  would  know  if 
matters  were  not  going  right  with  Sherburne.  So  they 
exchanged  cards,  and  the  professor  found  Princess'  hand 
to  press  in  it  a  meaning  good-bye,  since  it  did  not  evade 
him. 

The  subtle  consciousness  that  she  was  held  in  some- 
thing more  exquisitely  personal  than  mere  esteem  thrilled 


248  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

her  with  a  power  she  could  not  quite  control.  She  had 
been  shutting  it  out  for  months,  not  even  glancing  at  the 
possibility.  Though  she  had  a  fine,  sensitive  organiza- 
tion she  was  not  morbid.  She  did  not  covet  what  could 
not  of  right  belong  to  her.  And  she  recognized  the  fact 
that  Ruth  would  have  all  the  opportunities  to  foster  a  re- 
gard ;  she  would  also  have  the  silent  influence  of  Mrs. 
Kenneth's  affectionate  preference. 

The  intellectual  life ,  had  a  great  charm  for  her.  She 
could  content  herself  with  the  round  of  daily  duties,  and 
she  was  too  retiring  to  enter  any  arena  of  thought  her- 
self. She  did  almost  envy  Aunt  Millicent  her  gift  of  at- 
tracting a  wide  and  wonderful  interest.  She  had  written 
schoolgirl  verses,  one  or  two  little  things  had  been  set  to 
music  by  a  friend  who  said  they  sang  themselves.  No 
one  knew  or  ever  would  know  how  she  would  have  liked 
being  a  genius  and  stirring  the  hearts  of  others. 

But  she  must  be  content  to  shine  with  reflected  light, 
and  for  the  last  six  months  she  had  been  accepting  her 
duties  as  a  daughter  and  sister  with  a  sweetness  that  was 
almost  resignation,  that  would  attain  to  that  grace  by  and 
by,  though  she  knew  it  had  not  quite  reached  it  yet. 
Giving  up  was  not  always  resignation. 

She  had  been  very  happy  during  these  weeks  with 
Aunt  Julia  and  Ray,  and  at  Aunt  Amory's.  Every  day 
had  been  full  of  pleasure,  and  praise  that  was  not  alto- 
gether flattery,  the  enjoyment  that  is  so  adorable  in 
youth.  She  did  like  it.  But  she  would  not  want  a  whole 
lifetime  of  it.  Aunt  Violet  found  better  things,  but 
then  Aunt  Violet  had  a  husband  and  children,  and  Daisy 
might  be  a  genius. 

She  remembered  that  the  old  aunts,  Miss  Sherburne 
and  Miss  Carrick,  had  lived  long  single  lives  and  were 


TOLD   IN  A   GLANCE.  249 

happy  in  their  old  age.  But  when  a  young  girl  not  yet 
out  of  her  teens,  looks  down  the  long,  long  years  and 
does  not  see  quite  the  thing  she  wants,  no  story  of  love 
to  illumine  life,  the  prospect  is  not  inspiriting.  Only 
one  does  not  often  indulge  in  such  farsight,  and  neither 
can  one  live  in  the  future.     It  has  to  be  the  present,  first. 

So  Princess  had  been  making  herself  happy  in  the  en- 
joyment of  society.  Pearl  simply  absorbed  everything 
and  took  a  delicious  satisfaction. 

"  The  sort  of  pain  in  it,"  said  Violet  Osborne,  one  day, 
"is  its  evanescence.  You  know  it  is  shifting,  changing, 
dropping  out.  There  are  those  two  charming  Fairfax 
girls  that  I  should  like  to  have  a  lifelong  friendship  with. 
They  are  going  abroad  in  a  fortnight  for  two  years. 
Both  will  probably  be  married.  Our  lives  will  run  on 
different  lines.  Then  there  is  that  lovely  Celia  Nixon. 
This  is  her  father's  last  year  as  a  representative,  and  he 
is  disenchanted  with  politics.  Celia  will  go  back  home 
and  marry  some  one." 

"And  Violet  Osborne  will  go  back  to  California  and 
marry  some  one,"  said  Pearl,  imitating  her  cousin's  tone 
of  discouragement,  at  which  the  two  others  laughed. 
"  Girls,  marriage  is  the  grand  panacea  after  all.  But  let 
us  not  hurry  too  much.     Life  is  still  sweet." 

There  had  been  so  many  happy  marriages,  Princess  re- 
membered, so  few  unhappy  ones.  Did  her  mother  have 
an  ideal  before  she  was  married,  and  did  her  father  just 
fill  it,  she  wondered. 

She  tried  not  to  speculate  on  marriage,  and  said  over 
some  verses  to  make  her  sleepy.  She  had  a  great  many 
to  love  her.  Perhaps  she  and  Bertram  would  be  the  sort 
of  friends  some  famous  people  had  been,  and  she  could 
take  a  fervent  interest  in  his  life. 


250  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

A  note  came  for  her  in  the  morning.  "  She  must  not 
forget  they  were  to  go  to  Celia  Nixon's  last  reception, 
and  to  make  some  other  calls.  Then  there  was  the 
dance  at  Mrs.  Rheid's.  She  was  to  send  her  party  gown 
over,  to  come  to  dinner  and  stay  all  night.  The  carriage 
would  call  at  three.  No  excuses  received.  After  that 
Uncle  Con  could  take  his  turn." 

"O  yes,  mamma,  I  had  almost  forgotten  about  the 
dance.  Mrs.  Rheid  has  been  so  charming  to  us,  and  we 
are  coming  to  the  last  of  the  gayeties.  She  goes  to 
Florida  next  week.  And  Celia  Nixon  is  such  a  lovely 
girl.  O  dear,  to  think  you  may  never  see  some  people 
again  !  ' ' 

"  And  the  professor  is  to  call  this  afternoon." 
A  quick  rift  of  color  went  up  the  sweet,  youthful  face, 
and  the  eyes  drooped  with  a  peculiar  consciousness. 

"You  will  like  to  talk  to  him  about  the  boys.  You 
will  not  miss  me." 

"  I  think  he  will,"  said  the  mother,  at  a  venture.  "  He 
was  very  glad  to  see  you  last  night." 

"He  was  glad  to  see  all  of  us.  I  can  imagine  the  sur- 
prise and  pleasure." 

A  quick  ear  detected  a  certain  tremulousness  in  the 
tone.  But  a  young  girl's  heart  was  too  sacred  to  be  med- 
dled with. 

Only  Tessy  Beaumanoir  had  a  secret,  inexplicable 
sympathy  with  the  patient,  humble  lover,  whose  self- 
esteem  where  Women  were  concerned  was  so  small,  and 
to  whom  this  one  girl-woman  would  be  the  love  of  a  life- 
time. How  different  men  were  !  Leonard  had  rushed 
in  at  the  very  beginning  of  his  fancy,  and  swept  all  be- 
fore him  by  his  vehemence.  Dared  she  give  the  lover 
any  encouragement  to  take  home  with  him  ? 


TOLD  IN  A    GLANCE.  251 

The  carriage  came  with  the  two  girls  and  the  maid. 
There  was  a  curious  embarrassment  as  Princess  kissed 
her  mother.  And  then  she  exclaimed  in  a  breathless 
manner 

"  Mamma,  you  will  explain  that  I  had  to  go." 

Miss  Nixon's  reception  was  rather  sad  with  its  fare- 
wells. The  calls  were  made,  the  dinner  dispatched,  and 
Mrs.  Amory  superintended  the  toilettes  of  the  three 
girls,  whom  she  was  to  entrust  to  Mrs.  Rheid  for  the 
evening.  Pearl  was  in  high  spirits,  Violet  rather  pensive 
and  Princess  thoughtful. 

She  had  need  to  be  thoughtful.  Mr.  Sevier  was  early  in 
the  field. 

"  What  a  lovely  card  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  '  White  and 
unwritten '  still.  You  see  it  even  stirs  me  to  poetry.  I 
am  almost  ashamed  to  mark  it  up,  but  I  wish ' ' 

"What  do  you  wish?  I  may  not  be  in  a  generous 
mood  again  this  evening?"  she  returned  with  a  smile. 
"  O,  there  are  three  I  am  to  keep  for  Mr.  Rheid.  He  is 
going  south  with  his  mother.  It  has  been  a  day  of  fare- 
wells." 

She  took  her  card  and  made  a  little  star  at  the  three 
dances. 

"O,  I  wanted  that  mazourka  especially,"  he  said,  in  a 
disappointed  tone.     "  And  my  wish  was " 

"  What  is  a  wish  worth  that  is  so  hard  to  remem- 
ber?" 

"  It  isn't  hard  to  remember.  It  was — that  I  could  be 
as  sure  of  writing  on  some  one's  heart,"  in  a  low,  plead- 
ing voice. 

"  Mrs.  Glasse's  recipe — "  with  a  smile  of  the  utmost 
gayety  she  could  command. 

"  Yes,  one  has  to  have  some  influence  in  a  heart  before 


252  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

one  can  awake  a  lasting  interest,  or  hope  for  a  permanent 
impression." 

Princess  colored  with  embarrassment. 

Some  one  else  came  to  ask  for  her  card. 

"  O,  you  have  taken  too  many,"  to  Mr.  Sevier. 
"  Three  is  the  utmost  limit.     You  must  revise  them." 

He  did  it  unwillingly.  Then  Mr.  Rheid  came  as  his 
was  the  opening  dance. 

Mr.  Sevier  she  noticed  went  over  to  the  window  and 
talked  to  a  wall-flower  who  was  neither  young  nor 
pretty,  but  who  had  a  sister  with  both  requisites.  And 
Princess  knew  he  was  watching  her.  He  came  back  to 
her  at  once. 

How  had  she  allowed  him  to  take  this  delicate  air  of 
appropriation  with  her?  And  why  did  she  inwardly  re- 
sent it  now?  It  seemed  as  if  she  had  liked  him  very 
much,  but  his  demeanor  made  her  think  sharply  of  the 
future,  and  she  did  not  want  him  in  her  future.  She  was 
sure  of  that  now.  A  day  or  two  ago  she  had  not  put 
the  question  to  herself,  for  she  was  hoping  there  was 
no  question. 

Then  he  went  over  to  Violet,  who  was  always  ready  to 
talk  about  Princess,  and  while  he  talked  he  wondered. 

"  Do  you  think  Miss  Beaumanoir  cares  very  much  for 
Spencer  Rheid  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  depends  upon  the  sense  in  which  you  use  the 
word.  They  are  very  friendly.  Mrs.  Rheid  likes  her 
above  all  the  girls.  She  would  keep  her  singing  forever. 
And  poor  Spencer  can't  distinguish  one  tune  from 
another.  C)  yes,  I  think  he  does  know  the  '  Star  Span- 
gled Banner '  when  he  can  see  the  waving  of  the  flags." 

"  It  would  be  martyrdom  to  live  with  one  who  had  no 
soul  for  music." 


TOLD  IN  A    GLANCE.  253 

"  No  ear,  simply  in  this  case.  He  docs  like  the  sound. 
And  he  dances  well.  You  never  would  connect  '  treason, 
stratagems  nor  spoils '  with  him,  he  is  so  jolly  and  frank." 

"Spoils,  if  he  became  a  politician ;  stratagems  if  he 
were  deeply  in  love.     As  for  treason 

"  You  shall  not  traduce  him  to  me.  I  am  fond  of  him 
myself. ' ' 

Then  Princess  passed  to  a  handsome  young  midship- 
man. They  seemed  to  have  something  very  amusing. 
Would  his  turn  never  come  around  again  ? 

When  it  did  come  he  was  quite  certain  of  his  regard 
for  her,  but  the  very  consciousness  made  him  reticent. 
One  could  not  lead  up  to  love  affairs  in  a  ballroom.  A 
look  or  a  clasp  of  the  hand  might  tell  the  tale  if  both 
understood  or  were  mutally  attracted.  He  could  recall 
times  when  he  had  been  thrilled  with  unmistakable  pref- 
erence on  her  part.  But  now  she  seemed  curiously  on 
guard.  Or  was  it  because  he  was  watching  for  an  op- 
portunity ? 

There  was  a  dainty  little  supper,  but  Spencer  Rheid 
took  her  in  when  he  found  Pearl  was  engaged.  He 
would  have  enjoyed  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  room,  but 
when  Pearl  laughingly  declined  and  Princess  glanced  up 
with  irresistibly  shy  persuasion,  he  was  comforted. 

The  carriage  came  for  them  at  one.  Sevier  saw  her 
descending  the  stairs  in  her  white  wrap  with  its  scarlet 
hood  and  ribbons. 

"  O,  are  you  going  so  soon  ?  "  disappointedly. 

Some  one  had  stopped  the  other  girls  on  the  landing. 
They  were  quite  alone.  Before  she  could  answer  he  ex- 
claimed in  a  vehement  tone  : 

"Are  you  staying  at  the  Amorys?  Can  I  see  you — 
to-morrow  ?  ' ' 


254  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  Yes  and  no,"  returned  Princess,  steadying  her  voice 
and  dropping  her  eyes  after  one  glance  at  his.  "  I  go 
there  to-night.  To-morrow  is  promised  to  my  uncle. 
On  Saturday  we  return  to  Sherburne." 

'•'But,  Princess,"  under  his  breath.  "  If  I  dared  call 
you  my  Princess " 

"  O,  your  party  are  not  going  !  "  cried  some  one  who 
had  just  espied  her  as  the  two  girls  came  trooping  down 
the  stairs.  "  Mrs.  Rheid,  come  and  stop  this  barbarous 
proceeding." 

"Remember  Cinderella  and  have  mercy  upon  us," 
exclaimed  Pearl,  laughingly.  "  For  we  never  could  out- 
live the  mortification  of  going  to  rags  before  you  all. 
And  we  have  not  even  a  glass  slipper  to  attract  the 
prince." 

Princess  took  Violet's  arm  and  said  a  general  good- 
night. 

"  I  do  wish  at  times  that  we  didn't  have  to  go  home  so 
early,"  said  Pearl,  plaintively.  "You  just  get  into  the 
spirit  of  the  thing.  You  can  sometimes  coax  mamma  a 
little,  and  that  is  the  reason  I  think  she  likes  to  send  the 
carriage,  and  settle  the  responsibility  upon  us.  It  is  too 
bad!  " 

Princess  shrank  into  the  corner,  her  cheeks  burning, 
her  pulses  throbbing,  and  an  uncomfortable  half  con- 
demnation in  her  heart.  She  should  have  begun  her 
care  before.  She  must  have  known  whither  this  devo- 
tion was  tending.  She  was  sorry  and  ashamed  of  having 
allowed  him  to  come  so  near.     Was  it  not  coquetting  ? 

Why  could  she  not  care  for  him  ?  He  certainly  was 
worthy  of  esteem.  And  she  knew  her  father  would  in- 
terpose no  objection.  She  had  enjoyed  his  society,  and 
he  was  intelligent ;  one  could   always  be  proud  of  him. 


TOLD  IN  A   GLANCE.  255 

They  had  similar  tastes,  only — were  his  a  little  higher 
and  finer  ?  for  he  liked  Browning,  and  she  had  only  gone 
as  far  as  "Men  and  Women"  in  her  understanding  of 
the  poet.  And  he  knew  so  much  about  art,  he  had  taken 
two  vacations  abroad.  Even  Uncle  Amory  approved  of 
him. 

She  fell  asleep  with  the  unanswerable  "  why  "  of  youth 
beating  up  and  down  her  brain. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

POISONING   TRUTH. 

GERTRUDE  MURRAY  found  a  warm  welcome 
at  Sherburne  House.  The  children  remembered 
her.  As  for  Uncle  Con,  the  neighborhood  turned  out 
with  invitations,  and  there  were  so  many  dinners  and 
teas  that  the  few  days  were  lengthened  into  a  full  week. 

He  had  insisted  all  along  that  Princess  should  go  home 
with  them. 

"There  is  all  the  house  to  be  furnished,"  he  said, 
"  and  Gertrude  must  have  some  one  to  aid  and  abet  her 
in  all  sorts  of  extravagance.  You  are  to  have  the  first 
choice  of  rooms,  for  we  expect  you  to  come  early  in  Jan- 
uary and  remain  until  after  the  day  before  Christmas. 
By  that  time  we  shall  have  spent  all  our  money,  and  we 
will  close  our  house,  Gertie  and  I  retiring  to  the  back 
kitchen,  so  as  to  escape  giving  Christmas  presents.  No, 
Miss  Princess,  we  shall  not  take  any  denial.  We  would 
not  dare  to  go  back  without  you.  We  should  be 
mobbed." 

Violet  wrote  entreating  letters  as  well.  There  were 
invitations,  if  the  season  was  almost  over. 

"Mr.  Sevier  is  devoted  to  us,"  she  announced.  "I 
shrewdly  suspect  it  is  because  we  are  next  to  the  rose. 
Princess,  you  demure  little  midget,  I  am  afraid  you  are 
dangerous,  after  all." 

Among  her  notes  on  Saturday  morning  was  one  from 
the  gentleman  himself,  begging  permission  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  a  brief  visit  at  Sherburne. 

256 


POISONING   TRUTH.  257 

She  had  felt  somehow  between  two  fires,  but  this  blaze 
came  the  nearest  to  scorching.  She  would  go  home 
with  Uncle  Con.  There  were  so  many  relatives,  and 
she  had  not  seen  them  in  months. 

She  wrote  a  formal  little  note  in  reply  to  Mr.  Sevier. 
It  might  have  been  taken  out  of  an  etiquette  book.  And 
he  wondered  if  she  were  really  sorry.  It  would  not  shut 
him  entirely  out  of  hope  if  she  were.  But  at  present 
there  was  no  further  step  to  take. 

Yes,  one  could  not  help  liking  Gertie  Maurice  in  her 
new  character,  only  it  did  seem  to  Princess  as  if  she 
and  Uncle  Con  were  playing  at  being  married,  they  said 
such  amusing  things  to  each  other,  and  were  so  unsenti- 
mental. 

Gertrude  was  quite  resolved  that  Princess  should 
love  her,  and  should  miss  nothing  out  of  Uncle  Con's 
tenderness.  He  insisted  she  should  go  to  the  hotel  with 
them,  but  she  felt  Aunt  Millicent  had  a  claim  on  her. 
And  there  was  Auntie  Dell  and  the  boys. 

The  house  seemed  in  the  first  stage  of  confusion. 
Workmen  had  loitered.  But  Gertie  and  Princess  picked 
their  way  about  it  the  next  day,  holding  up  their  skirts, 
and  being  piloted  around  by  Uncle  Con.  This  was  to 
be  library,  this  smoking-room,  and  a  den  on  the  third 
floor  where  he  could  indulge  in  unlimited  tempers  when 
things  went  wrong.     Now  they  could  take  their  choice. 

"Your  room  must  adjoin  mine,"  declared  Gertrude. 
"  I  may  let  the  other  girls  in  it  when  they  deign  to  visit 
me,  but  it  is  not  to  be  a  guest  chamber.  We  shall  chris- 
ten it  'Princess'  room.'  And  when  I  see  anything  that 
especially  suggests  you,  for  there  are  some  articles  that 
have  a  Princess-y  air,  I  shall  buy  it  at  once." 

"  How  good  you  are  to  me." 


258  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"I  love  you,  Princess.  All  the  happiness  of  my  life 
has  come  through  you." 

There  was  a  general  rejoicing  at  Doctor  Carew's  when 
she  walked  in  upon  them.  They  were  so  joyous  and 
noisy,  that  Auntie  Dell  insisted  it  was  equal  to  "a  straw- 
berry festival  in  an  orphan  asylum."  Bertram  considered 
that  he  had  the  best  claim  to  her,  and  though  he  had 
written  her  voluminous  letters,  there  still  seemed  a  great 
deal  to  say.  Sherburne  was  rather  lofty.  His  recent  ex- 
periences had  added  a  great  deal  to  his  wisdom,  he 
thought,  and  it  had  taken  on  a  severe  and  gloomy  tinge, 
while  its  main  indulgence  was  biting  little  sentences, 
some  of  them  culled  from  extensive  reading.  The  Carew 
children  were  wildly  enthusiastic  about  her,  except  Ran- 
dolph who  was  so  intent  upon  study  that  he  had  no  eyes 
nor  ears  for  anybody. 

Then  there  were  a  host  of  Murray  cousins. 

"  I  sometimes  feel  as  if  I  was  related  to  half  the  world," 
Princess  said  mirthfully  to  Uncle  Con. 

True,  Morna  Murray  was  the  presiding  genius  of  a 
Scottish  castle,  one  son  was  out  in  China  in  the  tea 
trade,  another  on  the  western  coast,  but  Con  and  James 
and  Densie  were  in  the  city,  the  two  latter  with  homes 
and  flocks  of  their  own. 

Grandmamma  Murray  was  smaller  and  lovelier  than 
ever,  with  snowy  white  hair,  pink  cheeks  and  infantile 
complexion.  For  the  last  fifteen  years  she  had  bewailed 
the  fact  of  her  son  Con  being  such  a  roaming  fellow,  and 
having  no  home  or  wife  of  his  own.  And  now  her  last 
wish  had  been  gratified. 

She  took  Gertrude  to  her  heart  with  open  arms. 

"My  dear,"  she  said  in  her  soft  tone,  every  word  of 
which  had  a  delicious  lingering  sound  like  music — Con, 


POISONING    TRUTH.  259 

senior,  said  she  had  never  spoiled  her  voice  by  scolding, 
which  was  true  enough, — "  My  dear,  all  I'll  ask  of  you 
is  to  love  him  and  make  him  happy.  He's  waited  a 
long  while  to  settle,  and  that  leaves  fewer  years  for  the 
joy,  so  you  must  improve  every  day.  There's  no  fear  of 
people  having  too  much  happiness,  though  they  do  say 
sorrow  and  care  are  a  kind  of  discipline,  but  to  my  think- 
ing the  good  Lord  doesn't  send  half  that  He  is  credited 
with  but  we  make  it  up  ourselves  by  our  own  wrong  and 
careless  doing." 

Grandmamma  Murray  made  a  feast  to  welcome  the 
wife  of  her  firstborn  soni 

"O,  are  you  not  going?"  Princess  asked  of  Sher- 
burne,. He  seemed  so  changed  in  these  days  that  she 
hardly  knew  him,  so  lofty  and  captious  and  so  frigidly 
polite  at  times.     "  Sherburne,  what  has  happened  ?  " 

Sherburne  was  pacing  the  floor  in  a  slow,  melancholy 
fashion.  He  was  rather  hurt  that  Princess  had  not  re- 
marked before  that  something  had  gone  wrong  with  him. 

"The  matter  is  that  I  can't  endure  to  see  you  all  go 
down  to — Gertie  Maurice,  as  if  there  had  never  been 
another  woman  in  the  world  !  She  is  a  selfish,  heartless 
flirt,  and  schemed  to  make  a  good  marriage.  I  don't  see 
how  she  could  take  Uncle  Con  in  after  all  his  experience, 
but  she  blinded  even  him." 

The  tone  was  one  of  sharp  anger  and  the  young  fel- 
low's face  was  scarlet. 

Princess  stood  amazed. 

«Why — I  thought — "  hesitatingly,  "that  you  liked 
her  very  much.     Surely  you  did  at  Christmas." 

"  I  was  a  fool  then  !  I  may  as  well  confess  that  she 
used  her  bewildering  arts  on  me.  Pve  haunted  Mrs. 
Townsend's  for  a  chance  to  talk  to  her.     And  I  thought 


260  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

she  did  prefer  me  to  the  men  who  hung  about  her  and  at 
whom  she  laughed  slily.  Maybe  if  no  one  else  had  of- 
fered she  would  have  married  me,  at  least,  have  been  en- 
gaged, but  she  threw  me  over  fast  enough  when " 

He  paused  with  a  pricking  sensation  in  the  inner 
monitor  called  conscience.  But  he  was  too  proud  and 
too  angry  to  amend  the  statement. 

Princess  drew  several  long  inspirations,  her  eyes  grow- 
ing larger  and  deeper  with  indignation  and  surprise. 

"  Did  you  really  love  her  ?  "  The  tone  was  tremulous 
and  not  far  from  tears. 

"Well — "  he  began  to  pace  rapidly,  and  seemed  to 
consider.  "I  liked  her  very  much  that  day  at  the 
luncheon.  She  was  so  bright,  and  easy  to  talk  to,  and 
full  of  amusing  suggestions.  She  has  a  way  of  spurring 
you  up  to  your  best.  And  I  thought  she  was  in  earnest. 
After  all  she  is  just  a  young  girl,  younger  than  I  am. 
Some  people  are  engaged  years,"  in  an  apologizing 
tone. 

"You  didn't  ask  her  to  marry  you?"  Even  inex- 
perienced Princess  saw  the  folly  of  that. 

"Yes,  I  did.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  all  so  you  may 
understand  the  case.  I  don't  care  for  the  others,"  dis- 
dainfully. "And  she  admitted  there  was  not  any  likeli- 
hood of  her  being  married  for  years,  and — I  supposed  she 
meant  to  wait.  Girls  say  a  good  many  queer  inconse- 
quent things  and  wait  to  be  coaxed  and  all  that.  Then 
I  went  to  work  in  real  earnest.  I  meant  to  study  hard 
and  be  something  for  her  sake.  It  was  a  great  aim,  you 
know,  and  roused  all  the  courage  within  me." 

Princess  thought  of  mamma's  love,  and  papa's  pride 
in  him,  and  the  little  hurt  at  his  preference  for  another 
course  they  had  both  been  ambitious  and  solicitous  for 


POISONING   TRUTH.  261 

him  to  take.  How  papa  would  have  been  delighted  to 
keep  him  near  and  watch  his  daily  improvement  and  the 
growing  into  friendship  as  well  as  relationship.  Couldn't 
all  that  affection  inspire  one  ?  Must  it  take  the  favor  of 
some  girl  to  rouse  true  ambition  ? 

"Then  Uncle  Con  asked  her  and  she  jumped  at  the 
chance.  He's  almost  twice  as  old,  but  he  can  give  her 
most  of  the  things  women  think  so  much  about.  And 
position.  There'll  be  lots  of  people  to  go  down  to  Mrs. 
Con  Murray,  and  plenty  of  society  men  ready  to  flirt 
with  her.  Admiration  is  the  great  thing  with  her.  She 
isn't  really  pretty,  but  she's  stylish,  and  has  a  curious 
kind  of  fascination,  and  she'll  take  wonderfully  now.  I 
am  sorry  for  Uncle  Con — that's  all.  And  I'll  get  over 
it,  only  it  seems  as  if  the  big  aim  of  life  was  gone.  O, 
you  needn't  look  so  horrified  !  I  shall  not  take  to  drink- 
ing. I've  seen  some  fellows  -silly  drunk,  and  if  I  once 
got  there  myself  I  never  could  hold  up  my  head  after- 
ward. I'm  not  going  to  do  anything  desperate — no 
selfish  woman  is  worth  a  man's  going  to  ruin  for  her." 

Princess  was  really  bewildered.  Her  sympathies  were 
with  her  brother ;  she  was  indignant  that  any  woman 
should  trifle  with  him,  she  was  angry  too  that  any  one 
should  not  love  him  when  he  was  so  handsome  and 
charming  and  knew  so  much,  and  could  make  a  desir- 
able position  for  himself.  Yet  she  was  glad  with  a  girl's 
contradictory  soul  that  Gertrude  had  not  consented  to  an 
engagement. 

Like  a  flash  the  delight  of  the  last  week  went  over  her, 
the  amusing  love-making  that  always  brought  rifts  of 
color  to  Gertie's  face,  and  Uncle  Con's  enjoyment.  O, 
he  was  happy  !  They  were  very  much  in  love  and  had 
been  before  Sherburne's  return. 


262  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"O,  Gertie  does  love  him,"  she  declared  with  a 
sudden  accession  of  loyalty  and  conviction. 

"Just  as  she  would  love  any  man  of  position,  and 
means  enough  to  afford  her  an  elegant  home,"  said  Sher- 
burne, with  an  air  of  superior  wisdom  and  experience. 
"  She  might  have  taken  me  if  I  had  been  the  proud  pos- 
sessor of  a  fortune." 

"But  you  seem  so  young!  And — somehow,  I  can't 
think  it  of  Gertie." 

"Princess,  you  are  sweet  and  innocent  and  trustful. 
And  I  can't  bear  to  have  Gertrude  Murray  wind  you 
round  her  finger  as  she  will  all  the  others.  I  suppose, 
now,  mamma  went  down  to  her  charming  manner  !  " 

There  was  a  withering  scorn  in  the  young  voice  ca- 
pable of  sweeping  one  out  of  the  universe  if  a  voice  could 
do  it. 

"  O  Sherburne,  I  am  so  sorry  for  it  all  !  "  Her  arms 
were  around  his  neck  and  she  was  crying  on  his  shoulder. 
"I  want  them  to  be  happy  now  that  they  are  married, 
and  my  heart  aches  for  you,  and  I  don't  know  what- to 
think.  I  can't  bear  to  believe  ill  of  Gertie,  but  if  she 
trifled  with  you  and  is  deceitful  and  selfish " 

"  Keep  your  eyes  open  and  you  will  learn  a  good 
many  things.  I  don't  expect  you  to  change  your  mind 
about  Gertrude  in  a  moment,  minds  that  can  whiffle 
about  like  that,  never  have  solid  enduring  opinions. 
But  I  did  want  you  to  know  why  I  shall  not  go  to  Grand- 
mamma Murray's  feast,  nor  Uncle  James'  reception,  and 
why  I  have  no  interest  in  the  new  house  nor  what  Mrs. 
Con  Murray  may  choose  to  do.  There  dear,  do  not  cry. 
They  are  not  worth  tears." 

It  was  very  hard  for  Princess  to  meet  the  household  with 
equanimity,  and  she  admitted  that  she  had  a  headache. 


POISONING    TRUTH.  263 

"  Now  children,"  said  Auntie  Dell,  "you  are  to  give 
Princess  a  vacation.  You  have  almost  worn  her  out. 
She  is  to  go  to  her  room  and  not  be  disturbed  for  the 
next  two  hours,  longer  still  if  she  does  not  get  rested." 

Princess  was  glad  to  retire  though  there  was  a  chorus 
of  regret  in  every  key.  She  laid  her  throbbing  head  on 
the  pillow  and  cried  again  from  sheer  weariness.  The 
struggle  had  almost  torn  her  in  two.  There  were  too 
such  distinct  sides.  It  did  seem  as  if  Gertrude  must 
have  encouraged  Sherburne,  and  yet  Uncle  Con  was  so 
confident  that  he  had  awakened  her  regard  long  before. 
On  the  other  hand  she  must  have  been  coquetting  for 
the  mere  love  of  amusement,  which  was  more  detestable 
than  not  really  knowing  one's  mind. 

There  was  another  thorn  pricking  the  tender  heart  of 
Princess.  Did  Mr.  Sevier,  or  would  he  think  her  ca- 
pable of  such  duplicity  ?  Would  he  consider  that  she  had 
held  out  false  lights  ?  She  had  been  trying  to  like  him 
very  much,  but  she  knew  now  that  no  depth  of  sincere 
liking  could  touch  the  true  foundations  of  love.  That 
was  something  finer  and  more  sacred.  What  if  Gertrude 
— but  no,  Gertrude  was  not  trying  to  like  Sherburne  for 
any  more  occult  reason. 

That  Sherburne  was  altogether  mistaken  and  had  al- 
lowed himself  in  his  anger  and  mortification  to  swerve 
from  the  truth  did  not  then  occur  to  her.  There  was 
some  dreadful  misapprehension  about  it  all.  She  did  not 
want  Gertrude  proved  false  and  designing,  and  if  she 
were,  she,  Princess,  would  have  been  the  means  of  bring- 
ing a  great  sorrow  upon  them  all.  Did  one's  generous 
plans  sometimes  get  sadly  travestied  ? 

Sherburne  sent  regets  to  Grandmamma  Murray.  But 
the  Carews  and  the  Draytons  and  Nora  and  Mr.  Mallory 


264  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

were  out  in  force.  The  happiesl  woman  was  Mrs. 
Murray  who  firmly  believed  that  she  had  no  wish  un- 
gratified.  And  what  a  gay  party  it  was  !  They  could 
not  help  going  over  the  old  times,  and  Con  insisted  as  he 
often  did,  that  Dell  Sherburne  had  been  his  first  love, 
and  old  Doctor  Carew  his  most  powerful  rival. 

"  For  you  see  I  might  have  managed  the  young 
doctor,"  said  Con,  with  a  mirthful  twinkle,  "but  at  the 
other  end  of  the  line  adroit  papa  Carew  was  angling  for 
Dell  and  caught  her.     It  was  two  against  one." 

"O  Con,  dear,  how  can  you?"  said  his  mother,  in 
her  soft,  deprecating  tone,  at  which  the  company 
laughed. 

Princess'  honesty  gave  her  an  aching  heart  this  even- 
ing. Gertrude  was  very  bright  and  gay,  with  a  ready 
answer  for  every  one,  chaffing  with  Mr.  Mallory,  run- 
ning tilts  with  Mr.  Drayton,  and  making  herself  very  at- 
tractive. Perhaps  not  more  so  than  when  in  Washing- 
ton, but  might  not  this  very  readiness  lead  one  to  attach 
a  deeper  meaning  to  little  things  ?  Gertie  had  this  same 
quality  at  Melchias,  and  she  was  the  life  of  the  yachting 
party. 

She  had  merely  spoken  to  her  at  first,  and  they  were 
quite  far  apart  at  the  table.  They  sat  a  long  while  over 
the  dessert  and  coffee,  and  drank  toasts  and  gave  good 
wishes.  Even  after  they  rose  it  was  easy  to  evade,  but 
just  at  the  last,  when  they  were  in  mamma  Murray's  best 
room  putting  on  their  wraps,  Gertrude  came  over  to  her. 

"  Princess,  don't  you  want  to  go  out  'ordering  '  with 
me  to-morrow  morning  ?  Con  has  hurried  up  the  work- 
men after  the  fashion  of  the  old  woman  and  her  pig,  and 
everybody  begins  to  do.  So  we  are  to  order  carpets,  and 
you  must  come  and  choose  yours." 


POISONING   TRUTH.  265 

Princess  raised  two  troubled  eyes,  and  a  flush  went  up 
to  her  brow.  "I — "she  stammered,  "  I— "  O  what 
could  she  say  ?  How  could  she  go  and  choose  anything 
with  this  great  weight  of  distrust  on  her  soul. 

"No,  I  think  I  cannot  go  to-morrow,"  she  cried,  hur- 
riedly. 

"  O,  why !  Uncle  Con  is  so  impatient.  He  wants 
everything  in  readiness,  so  that  he  can  give  what  he  calls 
an  old-fashioned  house-warming.  Princess,  our  lives 
will  be  like  the  end  of  a  century  with  old  outgrown  things 
and  customs,  and  bits  of  new  fashions  tacked  on  to  them 
until  we  shall  mystify  our  friends  as  to  just  where  we  be- 
long. Do  come.  Where  shall  we  meet  ?  ' ' 
"No,  I  really  cannot,"  the  girl  gasped. 
"  The  next  day,  then  ?  " 

"I  will  send  you  word."  Then  she  turned  away  to 
say  good-night  to  a  guest. 

When  they  came  to  bid  her  good-night  she  was 
sheltered  under  Aunt  Lyndell's  wing,  and  it  was  very 
brief. 

"Sherburne  has  taken  umbrage  at  his  uncle's  mar- 
riage," said  Aunt  Lyndell.  "  I  begin  to  consider  it  a 
very  sensible  choice.  Mr.  Murray  is  young  for  his  years, 
and  his  mind  is  always  so  fresh  and  alive  with  the  inter- 
ests of  to-day.  And  Mrs.  Murray  fits  into  her  place  as 
if  she  had  been  born  in  it." 

"  I  like  her,"  returned  the  doctor,  "  and  we  shall  have 
to  admit  that  a  man's  choice  of  a  girl  a  good  deal 
younger  than  himself  is  not  often  sensible.  In  this  case 
it  is  admirab'e.  But  I  am  perplexed  about  Sherburne. 
I  have  made  several  attempts  to  explore  his  mind,"  and 
the  speaker  laughed,  "but  without  satisfactory  results. 
He  seems  to  have  lost  interest  in  most  things.    He  misses 


266  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

lectures,  he  is  irritable,  the  boys  say,  and  has  discarded 
his  enthusiasms.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  do  not  think  he 
has  struck  the  right  thing,  but  he  means  to  keep  at  it. 
Persistency  may  be  commendable  in  some  cases,  but  1 
heartily  wish  he  would  give  up  this." 

He  was  thinking  of  another  boy  that  he  had  meant  to 
train,  and  about  the  bent  of  whose  mind  he  was  quite  as 
much  puzzled.  He  recalled  his  own  eager  interest  and 
sighed  that  one  could  transfuse  so  small  a  degree  of  it. 

Princess  went  to  bed  with  a  half  frightened  feeling. 
Like  her  mother  she  was  fond  of  having  events  move 
smoothly.  Violet  Osborne  had  been  quite  amusing  at 
school  with  her  tiffs  and  disagreements  with  other  girls. 
There  had  been  times  when  Ray  was  trying,  when  she 
kept  a  hurt  sort  of  silence,  but  Ray  had  developed  a 
sweet  cordiality  that  made  her  a  charming  friend.  Prin- 
cess could  not  remember  any  more  serious  disputes  in 
her  life  than  childish  squabbles  like  April  showers,  soon 
over  with.  This  was  likely  to  be  a  much  more  lasting 
matter.  Even  if  she  had  the  courage  to  accuse  Gertrude 
of  double  dealing,  that  would  not  mend  the  matter.  She 
had  seen  some  of  the  intimacies  that  "  didn't  mean  any- 
thing, ' '  but  were  begun  with  a  very  deliberate  intention 
of  extorting  admiration.  And  there  were  other  half 
friendships  people  dropped  into  unwittingly,  as  she  had. 
What  if  Gertrude  had  done  the  same  thing  and  never 
supposed  Sherburne  would  take  it  seriously  ?  If  it  had 
been  any  one  but  Sherburne  she  could  condone  it  more 
easily,  but  she  must  side  with  her  brother.  And  she 
could  recall  the  many  nonsensical  things  Gertrude  had 
said  about  marriage ;  amusing  of  course,  but  if  true, 
quite  heartless. 

She  had  made  the  merest  little  call  upon  Mrs.  Kenneth 


POISONING   TRUTH.  267 

and  promised  to  go  to  luncheon.  She  would  take  this 
opportunity  lest  Gertrude  might  call  for  her.  She  would 
not  even  risk  Aunt  Millicent's  delightful  informal  morn- 
ing reception  that  she  had  counted  on,  and  where  people 
came  to  talk  of  the  day's  events. 

Mrs.  Kenneth  was  gratified  with  her  coming. 

"  I  began  to  think  that  we  would  all  drop  out  of  your 
mind,"  she  said,  "there  were  so  many  new  people  and 
events  crowding  in.  What  an  entertaining  winter  you 
have  had  !  Bertram  read  your  letters  to  us  and  it  was 
almost  like  being  in  the  midst  of  things  one's  self.  And 
brother  enjoyed  his  little  bit  of  you  all  with  such  fervor. 
I'm  beginning  to  believe  largely  in  environment,"  and  a 
sweet  smile  illuminated  the  face.  "I  will  own  now  that 
I  was  a  little  disappointed  in  Eric  when  we  first  renewed 
our  relationship.  As  he  had  never  been  crossed  in  love 
there  was  no  need  of  making  a  middle-aged  wisacre  out 
of  himself.  If  some  woman  hadn't  taken  him  in  hand 
he  would  have  been  forty  by  this  time,  and  in  another 
ten  years  sixty.  The  last  thing  my  sweet  Margaret  said 
to  me  was,  '  Dear  mamma,  don't  grow  only  one  year 
older  by  the  time  I  come  back.'  And  with  all  of  us,  we 
have  turned  Eric's  dial  back  to  the  true  figure.  Still,  if 
he  had  not  been  with  me  I  should  have  removed  my 
easy-chairs  and  traps  to  Washington  and  had  a  glimpse 
of  you  all.     Ruth  would  have  enjoyed  it." 

Ruth  had  gone  to  Mrs.  Drayton's.  She  liked  the 
talks  and  she  had  felt  certain  of  seeing  Princess. 

"  O,  that  would  have  been  delightful.  I  had  not 
meant  to  stay  when  I  went  up.  I  made  so  many  useful 
resolves  in  the  autumn  after  I  gave  up  going  to  college," 
and  Princess  flushed  daintily.  "I  did  offer  to  teach  the 
children,  but  mamma  would  not  hear  to  that.     Then  I 


268  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

began  to  learn  a  little  about  housekeeping,  and  it  ended 
by  all  this  gayety.  I  was  going  back  home  when  Uncle 
Con  carried  me  off,"  and  she  gave  a  bright  little  laugh. 

Then  they  discussed  the  marriage. 

"I  didn't  suppose  Mr.  Murray  would  marry.  He  is 
the  sort  of  man  who  can  make  a  splendid  bachelor  to  the 
end  of  his  days.  But  when  all  you  young  people  married 
and  had  homes  of  your  own,  he  would  have  found  it 
rather  lonely.  He  has  made  an  excellent  choice.  I  like 
Gertrude  very  much." 

"O,  I  am  glad  you  do!"  exclaimed  Princess,  with 
unaffected  sweetness. 

"  One  couldn't  spend  a  year  or  two  with  Mrs.  Town- 
send  without  being  well  trained  for  such  a  position.  Then 
Gertrude  has  too  much  pungency  to  be  weakly  senti- 
mental, and  Mr.  Murray  would  tease  the  life  out  of  a 
romantic  girl.  Not  but  what  I  do  believe  in  romance 
for  some  people.     I  don't  want  it  to  die  out  of  the  world." 

Princess  drew  a  sort  of  relieved  breath.  If  she  could 
have  faith  in  Gertrude  once  more  !  Mrs.  Kenneth  had 
opportunities  of  judging  her  quite  correctly,  she  thought. 

They  talked  of  Margaret's  home-coming  in  the  autumn. 

"She  has  made  all  her  plans,"  said  the  satisfied 
mother.  "  Of  course  she  is  all  I  have,  and  though  I  had 
a  little  misgiving  at  first  about  saddling  an  invalid  on  her 
when  I  had  money  enough  for  a  separate  home,  she  and 
Mr.  Phillips  vetoed  the  plan  at  once.  I  did  think  I  could 
get  along  with  Ruth,  who  is  almost  like  a  daughter  and 
needs  some  warm  human  interest.  Her  poor,  old 
grandmother  will  never  be  any  pleasure  or  duty,  even. 
She  wants  "Ruth's  salary  to  be  added  to  the  general  fund 
of  savings,  and  this  is  the  more  peculiar  when  Ruth  will 
have  it  all  in  the  end.     But  she  doesn't  seem  to  consider 


POISONING    TRUTH.  269 

the    end   may  come  to  her.     What  a  terrible  thing  a 
miserly  old  age  is  !  " 

Princess  gave  a  little  shiver. 

"  And  the  plan  is  a  nice,  roomy  house.  Mr.  Drayton 
is  to  find  that  for  me  in  the  course  of  the  summer,  and  I 
am  to  purchase  it.  We  are  to  have  three  rooms  of  our 
very  own,  and  conveniences  for  meals  if  we  choose  to 
take  them  alone,  as  we  often  shall.  Margaret  is  to  keep 
the  house,  and  be  the  mistress.  I  can  never  be  sufficiently 
thankful  for  Ruth,  although  there  will  come  a  time  when 
as  an  heiress  she  will  have  no  need  of  me." 

"That  is  a  lovely  plan,"  returned  Princess.  She  won- 
dered a  little  what  the  professor  would  do,  and  almost 
resented  his  being  counted  out. 

"Bertram  has  enjoyed  being  here  so  much,"  she  con- 
tinued, with  a  heightened  color. 

"  Yes,  Eric  is  very  fond  of  him.  He  is  such  a  splen- 
did student  and  will  capture  a  prize  next  year  without 
doubt." 

"  O  how  delighted  papa  will  be,"  and  her  eyes  light- 
ened with  joy. 

"  We  do  enjoy  him  as  well.  And  Sherburne,  though 
he  has  quite  deserted  us  of  late,  I  was  a  little  afraid  he 
was  rather  epris  with  Gertrude,  and  really  relieved  when 
the  marriage  was  announced.  But  young  fellows  are  apt 
to  have  two  or  three  such  turns  before  they  settle  upon  a 
steady  fancy." 

A  vivid  color  flushed  Princess'  face.  It  was  a  consola- 
tion to  know  that  other  people  thought  it  unwise. 

"Now  you  must  tell  me  about  the  girls.  Is  Violet 
really  doing  anything  with  her  genius  ?  And  I  suppose 
Pearl  is  as  beautiful  as  ever?  " 

Princess  related  some  of  the  most  enjoyable  events,  and 


27o  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

the  fascinating  glimpses  of  public  life  they  had  seen 
through  her  father's  influence. 

' '  Do  you  know  that  I  think  Sherburne  should  be  in 
that  kind  of  life  rather  than  studying  medicine.  Eric 
really  considers  him  intended  for  an  orator.  What  do 
you  suppose  gave  him  the  fancy  ?  ' ' 

"He  became  a  good  deal  interested  during  the  last 
part  of  his  German  student  life.  And  then  he  had  always 
been  quite  in  love  with  Uncle  Carew,  and  Uncle  Under- 
wood, who  appears  to  think  some  one  should  be  trained 
to  carry  on  his  work.  It  seems  to  me  we  run  to  physi- 
cians;" and  Princess  gave  a  soft  little  laugh.  "You 
can't  think  what  a  tremendous  enthusiast  Uncle  Under- 
wood is  !  Papa  declares  he  is  quite  enough  to  infect 
anyone." 

Ruth  came  in  presently,  her  face  in  a  glow. 

"  O  Princess,"  she  exclaimed,  after  the  first  greeting, 
"you  should  have  been  at  Mrs.  Drayton's.  There  was 
a  musical  morning  with  a  lovely  young  Russian  woman, 
who  sang  exquisitely  and  made  a  little  address.  The 
talks  were  so  delightful,  not  over  any  one's  head.  And 
just  at  the  last,  Mrs.  Murray  came  in.  I  think  she  was 
disappointed  at  not  finding  you  there." 

Princess'  heart  gave  a  sudden,  violent  beat. 

Then  they  had  a  cozy  luncheon  and  talked  over  the 
plans  again. 

"You  see  we  are  leaving  Eric  quite  out,"  said  Mrs. 
Kenneth.  "I  am  sorry  to  do  it,  but  he  does  want  a 
place  to  himself,  and  I  can't  saddle  Margaret  with  every- 
body. But  he  has  grown  much  more  socially  inclined. 
He  and  Bertram  might  set  up  bachelor  lodgings." 

"And  you  would  have  to  come  and  keep  house  for 
them,  Princess,"  said  Ruth,  with  curious  inadvertence, 


POISONING    TRUTH.  271 

which  she  did  not  remark  herself.     "  Your  uncle  has 
found  a  housekeeper." 

She  was  busy  just  then  dishing  some  pudding  and 
frosting  it  over  with  whipped  cream.  Princess'  face  had 
been  drenched  in  scarlet,  and  Mrs.  Kenneth  pretended  to 
hunt  for  her  handkerchief,  to  give  her  time  to  recover 
herself. 

"Yes,  I  have  lost  my  position,"  Princess  subjoined, 
with  all  the  merriment  she  could  put  into  her  voice, 
though  her  hostess  detected  the  tremble.  "  Mrs.  Kenneth, 
do  you  think  I  have  grounds  for  a  breach  of  promise  ?  I 
can  substantiate  my  claim  in  black  and  white." 

"It  depends  upon  whether  you  want  to  be  held  to 
your  bargain.  If  the  damage  involved  was  consider- 
able, he  might  keep  you  to  your  part  of  the  agreement." 

"  And  I  guess  I  don't  quite  want  to  be  kept." 

While  Mrs.  Kenneth  took  her  rest  afterward,  Ruth 
and  Princess  had  a  girl's  talk.  There  were  so  many 
subjects  that  had  come  up  in  letters.  Ruth  was  very 
happy  about  the  new  plans,  and  reaching  out  into  the 
future  without  any  thought  of  what  had  troubled  Prin- 
cess. She  referred  to  the  professor  quite  often,  too,  re- 
echoing Mrs.  Kenneth's  pride  in  him.  It  was  just  as 
one  might  talk  about  a  brother. 

Princess  was  strangely  confused,  and  some  inexplicable 
power  seemed  to  keep  her  pulses  athrob  with  the  trouble- 
some rush  of  color  flying  from  cheek  to  brow  since  she 
could  not  help  seeing  distinctly  before  her  his  look  at 
the  night  of  the  lecture.  She  could  plead  ignorance  no 
longer ;  she  was  aware  of  its  significance,  and  she  was 
frightened  at  standing  on  the  threshold  of  a  great  mys- 
tery. 

They  would  fain  have  kept  her  to  dinner,  but  she  would 


272  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

not  stay.  Mrs.  Kenneth's  manner  was  so  tenderly  caress- 
ing that  even  this  gave  her  a  vague,  delicious  uneasiness. 

Mr.  Murray  had  been  out  of  the  city  on  business  most 
of  the  day.  He  had  taken  Gertrude  to  his  bachelor 
rooms  until  the  house  could  be  made  ready.  He  was 
late,  and  dinner  was  announced  at  once  as  he  declared 
himself  famished.  Then  he  laid  down  some  slips  of 
paper  and  took  out  a  blue  pencil,  which  indicated  press- 
ing business. 

"  Did  you  look  at  carpets  to-day?  " 

"  Yes,"  Gertrude  replied,  briefly.  She  knew  the  ques- 
tion was  asked  more  from  politeness  than  interest,  and 
she  had  learned  already  not  to  feel  jealous  of  paper  and 
pencil. 

"Is  the  stained  glass  window  in?  "  presently. 

"Yes,  and  it  is  beautiful." 

The  papers  were  finished  and  sent  away  when  the 
dessert  came  in.  Then  they  had  a  little  talk.  When  he 
went  over  to  his  easy-chair  he  lighted  a  cigar  and  stretched 
himself  out.  He  had  hardly  imagined  a  woman  with 
rights  everywhere,  could  be  so  comfortable  to  get  along 
with  in  rather  crowded  bachelor-quarters.  She  was  so 
deft,  too.  He  watched  her  as  she  put  the  cloth  on  the 
table,  stood  the  drop  light  in  the  centre,  laid  papers  and 
magazines  to  one's  very  hand. 

"  Shall  I  light  it?  "  she  asked. 

"No — not  yet.  Come  here  and  talk.  Let  us  con- 
sider household  .ways  and  be  wise — or  extravagant  as  the 
mood  overtakes  us.  Did  you  have  a  good  time  with 
Princess?     What  did  she  say?  " 

"  I  did  not  have  Princess." 

"  Why,  I  thought " 

"  She  was  not  quite  sure,  at  least  she  did  not  promise." 


POISONING   TRUTH.  273 

"  O,  will  you  go  to-morrow?  Bring  her  in  to  dinner. 
Or  perhaps  I  can  join  you,  and  we  will  all  air  our  opin- 
ions. And  if  there  is  a  nice  play  we  can  go  in  the 
evening." 

Gertrude  Avas  considering.  She  felt  certain  something 
had  happened  to  disturb  Princess. 

"  Well,  what  conspiracy  are  you  hatching?  " 

She  had  been  leaning  on  the  corner  of  the  chair  and 
he  moved  so  that  he  could  see  her  face.  She  felt  a  rising 
color  and  tried  to  laugh. 

"  Suppose  I  should  not  see  Princess  to-morrow  ?  There 
are  so  many  relatives  with  claims." 

"I  will  tell  you  where  you  could  have  found  her — at 
Mrs.  Drayton's.  The  talk  and  the  music  was  very  fine, 
our  reporter  said,  and  the  woman  extremely  handsome. 
I  wish  you  had  dropped  in  there." 

"I  did,"  she  returned,  after  a  pause. 

"Why — that  is  queer,  too.  I  thought  you  were  the  best 
of  friends  and  all  was  serene.     What  has  gone  wrong  ?  " 

"I  am  not  quite  sure  anything  has.  But  if  I  shouldn't 
see  her  to-morrow  I  shall  have  a  misgiving " 

"  O,  you  do  not  suppose  that  idiotic  boy  has  confided 
his  grievance  to  her  ?  And  now  I  come  to  think  of  it  I 
scarcely  saw  her  last  evening.  I  didn't  suppose  Sher- 
burne would  come,  but  if  he  is  going  to  stir  up  a  family 
feud  he  will  find  he  has  me  to  settle  with,  and  I  shall 
stand  no  nonsense." 

"  Con,  dear,"  she  leaned  over  and  kissed  him  on  the 
forehead.  How  like  his  mother's  voice  that  sounded, 
his  mother  who  had  been  gentle  and  a  peacemaker  all 
her  life —  "  Con,  dear,  do  not  be  hasty  about  anything. 
I  should  be  sorry  if  my  coming  in  the  family  led  to  any 
trouble  or  disagreement." 


274  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  But  it  has  not.  I  am  sure  the  Amorys  and  all  of 
them  were  most  cordial.  The  judge  admired  you,  and 
Tessy  gave  you  a  sister's  welcome.  Princess  had  gotten 
over  all  that  little  feeling,  in  fact  I  think  she  would  have 
been  very  much  affronted  if  you  had  not  listened  to  my 
suit.  Indeed  " — he  leaned  his  head  back  and  laughed 
heartily — "I  can  just  imagine  the  consternation  if  you 
had  been  foolish  enough  to  consent  to  that  young  man's 
wishes." 

She  laughed  too,  but  not  very  cordially. 

"After  all,"  reflectively,  "  it  would  have  been  a  temp- 
tation to  some  girls.  He  is  a  handsome  and  attractive 
fellow.  I  will  grant  that  even  if  his  present  prospects 
are  not  brilliant.     And  you  are  young,  you  know." 

"I  wonder  if  you  will  ever  come  to  think  it  was  the 
prospect  that  tempted  me?" 

"  I  wonder  if  you  will  ever  come  to  be  sorry  that  you 
have  married  a  man  so  much  older  ?  There  ought  to  be 
something  to  equalize  it." 

"  That  isn't  answering  my  question." 

"  I  have  the  self-appreciation  of  my  sex.  I  think  you 
fell  in  love  with  me.  But  there  was  no  fascinating  young 
rival.  And  I  should  have  insisted  upon  your  marrying 
me  out  of  hand  that  night  on  the  boat  when  Ave  rather 
stumbled  over  each  other's  preferences,  if  I  had  not  pos- 
sessed a  little  grain  of  conscience  about  the  disparity. 
If  you  had  been  a  shrewd  young  woman  of  the  world 
you  would  have  captured  me  then  and  there." 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  would  have  done  such  a  thing?" 
she  exclaimed,  spiritedly. 

"  You  didn't,  evidently.  And  if  I  had  not  known 
about  your  future  I  should  have  followed  with  the  vim 
and  perseverance  of  twenty." 


POISONING    TRUTH.  275 

"How  thoughtful  you  were  for  me,"  she  said,  with 
deep  feeling. 

< '  And  Mrs.  Townsend  insisted  that  I  should  give  you 
still  another  chance.  Yes,  I  think  I  was  generous.  But 
if  I  had  seen  any  real  danger " 

"It  was  hardly  fair,  after  all,"  she  said,  with  a  glint 
of  mirth.  "  You  never  allowed  me  to  quite  know  whether 
you  loved  me  or  not,  and  you  thought  I ' ' 

"You  are  not  a  shrewd  hand  at  guessing."  He 
laughed  softly  as  he  kissed  her.  "  Well,  I  have  distanced 
the  young  fellows,  and  that  ought  to  satisfy  me.  And  I 
dare  say  I  shall  get  all  the  love  I  deserve  and  more,  too. 
But  I  am  not  going  to  have  Princess  tolled  away — that 
southern  word  just  expresses  it — by  any  angry  young  man 
appealing  to  her  sympathy,  even  if  he  is  her  brother." 

"Princess  would  have  a  right  to  be  angry  if  she 
thought  I  had  lured  him  on.  I  never  did,  consciously." 
She  half  buried  her  face  against  his.  ' '  I  never  even  dared 
indulge  in  a  good  flirtation — you  seemed  so — watchful 
isn't  quite  the  word " 

"  I  am  glad  you  felt  the  mysterious  power.  The  flirta- 
tion would  have  been  nipped  in  the  bud." 

"We  will  wait  over  to-morrow,  at  least,"  she  said, 
after  a  long,  tender  silence.  "  But  it  does  hurt  me  to 
have  Princess  distrust  me." 

"  To-morrow  will  be  about  as  far  as  my  patience  can 
carry  me.  Then  I  shall  step  in  and  put  an  end  to  the 
young  man's  folly." 

"  I  hoped  it  would  die  naturally." 

Sherburne  took  his  sister  out  that  evening  to  a  high-class 
concert,  and,  though  he  said  little,  he  deepened  the  im- 
pression that  he  had  been  very  ill-used.  And  she,  sweet 
soul,  was  ready  to  take  up  arms  against  her  friend.     She 


276  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

seemed  suddenly  aware  of  the  depth  and  heights  possible 
to  love,  and  the  pang  of  falsity,  of  deception,  But  after- 
ward Gertrude's  perfidy  swept  over  her,  and  with  a  sigh 
she  wondered  how  they  could  ever  be  dear  friends  again. 

But  what  made  the  atmosphere  so  radiant  that,  in 
spite  of  her  sorrow  and  regret  at  this,  she  was  lifted 
above  it.  A  new  vivifying  light  penetrated  her  brain 
and  filled  it  to  overflowing  with  tenderness  for  all  sorrow 
and  suffering  and  disappointment.  There  was  a  fresh, 
exquisite  meaning  to  all  things,  a  new  creation,  as  if  the 
old  things  that  had  lain  cloudily  about  her  were  swept 
away  and  she  had  just  begun  to  live. 

What  mystery  was  it  that  so  encompassed  her  ?  There 
was  a  curious  sanctity  to  it  before  which  she  trembled 
and  drew  long  quivering  breaths.  She  dared  not  enter 
the  holy  of  holies,  but  was  quite  content  to  sit  outside 
until  one  hand  raised  the  veil  and  invited  her  within. 
But  she  shut  her  eyes  and  would  not  even  imagine  whose 
hand  it  might  be,  while  she  could  see  clearly  whose  hand 
it  was  not.  And  she  gave  inward  thanks  that  she  had 
not  been  betrayed  by  any  wandering  sympathy. 

O,  what  would  a  woman  do  if,  too  late,  a  conscious- 
ness of  what  love  truly  was,  came  to  her  and  found  her  a 
prisoner  of  honor. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    LIGHT    THAT    ILLUMINES. 

PRINCESS  said  to  herself  that  she  could  not  see  Ger- 
trude at  present,  unless  she  came  to  call.  She 
would  not  even  go  to  Aunt  Millicent's.  There  was  enough 
to  entertain  her  after  the  children  went  to  school.  Aunt 
Neale,  grandmamma,  as  the  flock  of  Carews  called  her, 
kept  a  good  deal  to  her  own  room  and  that  of  her  brother. 
She  was  quite  feeble  now,  and  her  complexion  had  a  pe- 
culiar transparency  that  matched  the  silvery  whiteness  of 
her  hair. 

Aunt  Lyndell  was  still  full  of  philanthropical  plans, 
but  now  she  never  allowed  them  to  interfere  with  true 
family  life.  There  were  two  hours  of  the  morning  de- 
voted to  letters,  applications  and  callers.  Doctor  Carew 
said  she  ran  an  employment  bureau.  But  she  had  learned 
the  truest  charity  was  fitting  people  for  work  and  finding 
places  for  them. 

Princess  wrote  several  letters  for  her,  and  she  laugh- 
ingly proposed  the  young  girl  should  remain  all  the 
spring  as  private  secretary,  "for,"  said  she,  "I  have  al- 
most coveted  Miss  Maurice,  and  now  I  can  condole  with 
Mrs.  Townsend." 

"Auntie  Dell,"  the  girl  asked,  hesitatingly,  "do  you 
think  they  are — that  Uncle  Con  is  very  happy?  " 

"  If  he  is  unhappy  it  will  be  because  he  has  lost  the  art 
of  making  himself  happy.     And — but  you  and  Gertrude 
have  been  such  friends,  and  you  saw  a  good  deal  of  them 
277 


278  THE  HEIR   OE  SHERBURNE. 

in  Washington.  You  ought  to  be  able  to  answer  your 
own  question." 

"  I  think  they  are  very  happy,  now,"  with  a  grave  lit- 
tle emphasis. 

"  And  a  good  deal  of  the  rest  depends  upon  Gertrude's 
wisdom  and  tenderness.  Men  are  capable  of  absorbing 
a  great  deal  of  real  love,  as  well  as  a  good  deal  of  silli- 
ness. I  think  we  women  are  apt  to  forget  that  love  is  the 
golden  key,  when  we  stand  outside  in  some  hurt  mood 
and  nurse  imaginary  wrongs.  It  seems  to  me  Gertrude 
is  of  the  franker  sort.  And  Uncle  Con  is  no  longer  an 
enthusiastic  young  man.  I  was  a  little  amazed  at  first, 
for  I  had  a  feeling  that  he  would  not  be  likely  to  marry. 
But  the  honeymoon  is  just  the  beginning,  the  marriage  is 
the  true  life  and  there  has  to  be  years  of  it  before  one  can 
pronounce  it  good  or  bad." 

Then  some  girls  came  in,  and  Princess  went  to  Aunt 
Neale's  room.  She  was  very  fond  of  reminiscences  about 
Sherburne  House. 

It  was  almost  noon  when  the  waitress  came  up  with 
a  card  for  Miss  Beaumanoir.  A  scarlet  bloom  went  up 
to  her  brow,  but  Aunt  Neale  was  too  intent  on  her  own 
thoughts  to  remark  it. 

She  must  go  down  alone.  In  her  inmost  heart  she 
knew  she  would  rather  meet  him  alone,  trying  as  it  would 
be,  though  she  was  armed  with  a  secret  knowledge  that 
she  would  not  allow  to  take  shape  even  in  her  soul.  There 
was  a  faint  thrill  like  terror  as  well. 

She  hesitated  a  moment  beside  the  silken  portiere  that 
swept  the  floor.  Did  the  watchful  ear  of  love  detect  the 
slight  footfall?  Professor  Kenneth  came  forward  and 
saw  the  downcast  face  struggling  for  courage  that  one 
did  not  need  for  a  mere  acquaintance.     Then  he  gathered 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  ILLUMINES.  279 

the  slight  figure  in  his  arms,  and  the  most  serious,  the 
most  exquisite  question  of  life  was  asked  and  answered 
without  a  word.  Was  it  moments  or  half  a  lifetime  before 
either  spoke  ? 

"Last  summer,  nearly  a  year  ago,  I  confessed  my  re- 
gard to  your  mother,  and  she  interposed  no  real  objec- 
tion. But  I  had  loved  you  before  that,  during  that  de- 
lightful summer.  How  one  chooses  is  always  a  mystery. 
I  said  then  if  I  were  not  so  much  older  and  graver  I 
would  enter  the  lists.  But  it  was  hardly  fair.  I  wanted 
you  to  see  more  of  the  world,  to  know  whether  you 
would  be  likely  to  choose  me  as  I  chose  you." 

"  And  mamma  knew  all  this  time " 

He  felt  the  added  warmth  of  her  cheek,  but  there  was 
only  a  softness  of  relief  in  her  tone.  If  mamma  knew 
there  could  be  no  question.  And  now  a  hundred  little 
glimpses  flashed  over  her  that  she  never  dreamed  had 
any  real  meaning. 

"And  at  Christmas,"  he  continued,  "I  almost  con- 
cluded that  I  should  not  be  the  fortunate  one  to  awake 
the  regard  you  were  capable  of  giving.  Princess,  did  you 
evade  me,  or  was  it  my  fancy?  " 

"I  thought — I  was  afraid — "  tremulously 

' '  You  were  right  to  consider.  We  do  not  look  at  the 
sacred  side  of  love  enough,  nor  the  significance  of  a  sure 
preference.  And  this  was  why  I  waited.  You  were  so 
young,  you  had  a  right  to  see  something  of  the  world, 
and  a  man  would  have  been  selfish  to  the  last  degree  to 
have  shut  you  out  of  this  experience." 

"  It  was  not  altogether  that."  She  wanted  to  be  quite 
frank  with  him.  "  O,  there  was  Ruth,  and  you  could 
not  help  seeing  her  sweetness,  her  readiness  to  give  of 
her  best ' ' 


280  THE  HEIR   OE  SHERBURNE. 

"  But  I  loved  you,"  he  said,  simply.  "  I  should  have 
loved  you  always,  and  waited,  and  if  the  chance  never 
came  1  would  rather  have  had  a  sacred  temple  in  my  life 
with  a  vision,  than  the  real  presence  of  any  other 
woman." 

"Do  you  love  me  like  that?"  It  seemed  marvellous 
to  her,  the  choicest  gift  of  a  lifetime. 

"I  do  not  think  I  was  formed  for  a  general  lover," 
and  she  could  feel  the  half  smile  in  his  voice.  "My 
inner  life  was  extremely  solitary  until  Margaret  and  her 
mother  came  into  it.  I  have  no  fashion  of  saying  pretty 
society  things.     You  must  train  me." 

"And  Mrs.  Kenneth  knew  ?  " 

"  She  divined.  And  she  would  not  let  me  lose  heart, 
though,  as  I  said,  I  should  have  gone  on  hoping  until 
your  regard  was  placed  elsewhere.  And  suddenly  I  came 
to  understand.  Yet  I  wonder,  dear,  if  it  will  not  be  a 
grave  life  for  you  ?  I  shall  try  to  put  in  it  all  the  joy,  all 
the  pleasure  that  youth  can  take." 

"  But  I  like  the  other  things  also.  Life  would  grow 
tiresome  to  me  if  I  had  to  dance  through  it." 

"Yet  I  like  to  look  on  at  the  dancing  and  the  good 
cheer  of  youth.  It  is  only  now  and  then  that  youth  drops 
out  of  life  during  the  early  period,  as  it  did  out  of  mine. 
It  would  not  have  happened  if  I  had  been  in  a  family. 
Poky  old  scholar  as  I  am,  I  have  more  of  a  longing  for 
family  life  than  many  who  have  only  to  reach  out  their 
hand  to  have." 

She  would  be  satisfied.  She  knew  now  she  should  de- 
sire to  be  in  a  wider  life  than  her  mother's.  She  wanted 
to  be  in  touch  with  some  of  the  greater  qualities  and  suc- 
cesses, the  more  intellectual  manifestations  of  science  and 
philosophy  and  advancement  of  the  world.     No  one  had 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  ILLUMINES.  281 

quite  comprehended  this  side  of  her  nature,  and  to  be 
understood  thrilled  her. 

He  was  considering  another  point  in  a  man's  way. 

"And  you  would  have  given  me  up  to  Ruth,"  he  said, 
in  a  reluctant,  regretting  tone. 

"  If  you  loved  her " 

A  soft  little  smile  made  a  sunrise  in  the  eyes  and 
lingered  about  the  lips.  She  knew  now  this  could  not 
have  been,  and  she  would  have  proved  more  than  human 
if  she  had  not  experienced  a  leaping  pulse  of  gladness. 

Presently  he  said,  "I  was  charged  with  a  message. 
Mrs.  Kenneth  desired  me  to  ask  you  to  dinner,  insisted 
that  you  must  come.  We  will  not  even  have  Bertram. 
And  to-morrow  I  will  explain  to  your  father.  I  have 
never  thought  much  about  money,  indeed  am  afraid  I 
have  been  rather  heedless  with  it,  but  I  am  glad  to  have 
something  to  offer  you  beside  my  salary,  not  that  one 
would  need  to  starve  on  that." 

He  hated  to  leave  her,  but  he  would  not  stop  to 
luncheon.  He  was  a  very  earnest  lover,  after  all.  The 
strange,  sweet  knowledge  that  he  alone  of  all  the  world 
had  the  power  and  privilege  of  making  this  girl  happy, 
gave  him  an  exquisite  sense  of  responsibility  and  de- 
light. 

As  Princess  was  going  through  the  hall,  she  espied  the 
pile  of  letters.  Two  for  her — one  from  Ray,  one  from 
papa.  She  broke  the  seal  of  that  first  and  ran  her  eye 
along  the  lines.  There  was  some  solicitude  about  Sher- 
burne, and  then  a  message  for  her  very  self  and  some 
fatherly  counsel. 

Mr.  Sevier  had  begged  the  privilege  of  addressing  her 
on  the  tender  and  grave  subject  of  marriage. 

"  The  young  man  is  unexceptionable  in  every  way  and 


282  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

has  none  of  the  society  vices  of  the  present  clay,"  her 
father  wrote.  "Then  I  think  he  has  it  in  him  to  come 
up  to  some  higher  position  and  take  a  hand  in  public  life. 
If  you  care  for  him,  Princess,  or  think  you  can  in  time  to 
come,  you  have  my  most  cordial  assent,  and  I  know  your 
mother  will  agree  in  whatever  is  for  your  happiness." 

Princess'  pulses  gave  such  a  throb  that  her  slight  figure 
shook  tremulously.  Would  she  have  had  the  courage  to 
stand  up  boldly  for  love's  sake,  an  unknown  love,  one 
that  might  be  forever  in  her  soul  and  find  no  answering 
sympathy  ? 

It  was  like  a  miracle,  as  love  always  is  to  youth.  It 
was  as  if  she  could  see  the  finger  of  a  diviner  power. 
This  that  had  come  to  her  was  the  best  love  of  her  soul, 
and  any  other  would  have  missed  the  perfect,  mysterious 
joy. 

"  But  I  should  have  been  brave  enough  to  say  no  un- 
der any  circumstances,"  she  thought,  "or  I  would  not 
be  worthy  of  this  perfect  blessing."  Yet  she  had  liked 
Mr.  Sevier  very  much,  and  her  father  approved  of  him 
in  every  way.  He  was  more  to  a  girl's  fancy.  But  she 
wanted  something  more  purposeful,  something  with  a 
higher  reach  than  mere  material  pleasure.  There  would 
always  be  a  depth  in  her  soul  that  Mr.  Sevier  would  not 
care  to  fathom,  since  he  would  only  go  far  enough  to 
content  himself. 

Of  course  papa  would  have  a  little  twinge  of  disap- 
pointment. He  was  desirous  of  the  world's  approval,  he 
had  a  good  deal  of  ambition,  and  Sherburne  was  not  in 
a  fair  way  to  gratify  it.  She  sighed  a  little.  Was  hap- 
piness for  one  purchased  with  sorrow  for  another? 

Aunt  Lyndell  was  much  occupied  with  some  cases  she 
wished  to  lay  before  her  husband.     No  one  remarked 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  ILLUMINES.  283 

the  exquisite  joy  in  the  young  girl's  face,  the  first  glow 
of  the  sweet  consciousness  that  she  holds  the  happiness 
of  another  in  her  hands,  and  that  her  power  can  evoke 
joy  or  tears.  She  wanted  to  tell  Aunt  Neale,  but  she 
must  write  first  of  all  to  her  mother. 

How  much  she  had  to  say  !  Then  she  put  on  her 
coat  and  hat — she  must  make  one  little  call  upon  Aunt 
Milly,  who  was  wondering  where  she  kept  herself,  since 
she  had  seen  so  little  of  her.  And  Nora  was  complain- 
ing. 

"But  there  are  so  many,"  she  said  in  her  naive  pretty 
way.     "  Aunt  Milly,  I  ought  to  be  twins." 

"And  then  we  wouldn't  be  able  to  decide  which  one 
we  liked  the  best,"  returned  Aunt  Milly,  smilingly. 

She  longed  yet  dreaded  to  see  Mrs.  Kenneth.  And 
she  wished,  somehow,  that  Ruth  might  not  be  in. 

She  had  her  wish.     Mrs.  Kenneth  was  alone. 

"  You  dear  little  midget,  where  have  you  been  loiter- 
ing all  the  afternoon?  Ruth  went  out  an  hour  ago. 
How  delightful  it  is  that  everybody  talks  about  every- 
thing from  a  voyage  to  the  North  Pole  to  the  interior  of 
Africa  !  You  do  not  have  to  race  through  volumes  to 
find  a  few  facts.  There  they  are,  concise,  labeled,  ready 
to  stow  away  in  your  memory.  Ruth  is  much  interested 
and  when  I  said  you  were  coming,  wondered,  dear  soul, 
if  I  could  spare  her  for  a  while,  and  if  you  would  not 
feel  hurt !  So  I  sent  her  off  and  have  been  counting  the 
moments.     O,  my  dear,  dear  child  !  " 

Mrs.  Kenneth  held  her  to  her  heart  in  a  long,  tender 
embrace. 

"  Princess,  you  are  quite  sure  you  have  not  made  any 
mistake?"  she  inquired,  softly. 

"I  should  feel  that,"  was  the  half  breathless  answer. 


284  THE  HEIR   OE  SHERBURNE. 

"It  is  a  new  world  of  joy  to  me,  and  I  am  glad,  yes, 
truly  glad,"  with  a  delicious  little  laugh,  "  to  be  invited 
in." 

"There  have  been  some  misgivings  on  Eric's  part.  I 
wish  he  was  five  and  twenty,  that  would  be  quite  old 
enough  for  you,  but  he  did  not  have  as  good  a  position 
at  that  period ;  and,  really,  I  think  he  is  younger  in 
heart  now  than  he  was  then.  Your  mother  knows,  so  I 
do  not  feel  worried.  Erie  came  home  from  Washington 
in  such  high  feather,  and  yet  he  had  not  said  a  word  to 
you,  except  perhaps  in  love's  mysterious  language." 

Princess  blushed  to  her  utmost  capacity  which  was 
great. 

"  It  seems  very  odd,  doesn't  it  to  you  ?  What  chances 
there  are  in  the  world  !  Just  the  way  we  all  met  on 
the  boat,  and  then  that  Eric  should  go  off  exploring  that 
little  Maine  island  because  some  one  had  told  him  about 
many  curious  specimens  not  to  be  had  elsewhere.  O  my 
child,  I  hope  you  may  be  very  happy,  and  be  spared  to 
each  other  many  a  year. ' ' 

The  earnest,  tender  voice  touched  the  young  girl.  Yes 
— years  and  years — oh,  how  could  one  endure  to  be  sep- 
arated ! 

She  took  off  her  wrap  and  brought  a  low  rocker  close 
up  to  the  reclining  chair.  Of  course  they  talked  of 
Eric,  there  was  no  subject  so  absorbing  to  either  of  them 
just  then.  And  before  they  had  said  half  the  delightful 
things,  and  it  is  strange  how  many  virtues  love  can  find,, 
the  door  of  the  private  hall  opened,  and  a  girl's  clear 
voice  with  a  soft,  happy  ring  in  it  sounded.  A  graver, 
deeper  voice  replied. 

« '  Are  you  sitting  here  in  the  dark  ?  Has  Princess 
come  ?  " 


THE  LIGHT   THAT  ILLUMINES.  285 

Princess  wanted  to  see  Ruth  Ensign's  face.  Ah,  what 
if  the  story  should  give  her  a  pang  ? 

"  Let  me,"  said  the  professor,  taking  the  lighted  match 
from  her  hand.  The  face  was  bright  and  eager  and 
Ruth  turned  to  her  friend  and  kissed  her  with  joyousness. 

"I  met  the  professor  and  have  been  entertaining  him 
with  the  deep  and  mysterious  aspects  of  our  talk  this 
afternoon  that  goes  far  to  invalidate  the  stone  age  and 
the  different  ages,  since  nations  are  found  in  different 
places  in  all  these  ages.  One  scientist  comes  to  hand 
and  upsets  another.  I  don't  know  whether  the  nail  is 
driven  out,  or  only  a  little  further  in." 

She  laughed  again  merrily  as  she  lighted  the  piano 
lamp  with  its  soft  pink  shade,  looked  if  the  heat  was 
right  and  then  went  out  to  the  kitchen  department  to  stir 
up  the  handmaid.  The  table  was  already  arranged  ex- 
cept the  few  touches  the  young  mistress  always  gave. 
And  then  she  made  the  coffee — she  had  some  especial 
art,  and  Mrs.  Kenneth  came  out  on  her  brother's  arm, 
and  they  took  their  places. 

Ruth  wondered  a  little  what  kept  the  color  coming  and 
going  in  Princess'  face.  And  was  there  a  rare,  unusual 
sound  in  her  voice,  a  mysterious  depth  ?  It  made  her 
prettier  than  usual.  But  the  professor  seemed  interested 
in  drawing  the  main  fact  of  the  "talk"  out  of  Ruth, 
since  it  had  been  given  by  one  of  the  new  scientific 
women  who  was  being  discussed  as  the  future  president 
of  a  college. 

Afterward  Princess  played  and  sang  and  charmed 
them  all.  Then  Eric  Kenneth  put  on  her  wraps  rather 
awkwardly,  but  with  a  curiously  delicate  touch  and  took 
her  back  to  Doctor  Carew's. 

Ruth  went  to  look  at  the  fire  in  the  study,  returned 


286  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

and  put  out  the  lamps,  leaving  the  gas  to  shine  through 
the  ground  globe.  All  this  time  a  curious  thought  was 
floating  about  her  mind.  Was  she  glad  ?  Could  she 
wish  it  otherwise  ? 

"If  it  is  so  she  will  be  very  happy,"  Ruth  said,  under 
her  breath. 

There  was  no  envying  or  jealousy.  If  such  a  thing 
had  come  to  her  she  would  be  very  happy.  Perhaps  no 
girl  ever  looked  on  another's  joy  without  the  secret  hope 
that  it  might  some  day  thrill  her  with  rapture.  But  hers 
would  come  from  some  one  quite  different.  She  had  her 
ideal  and  was  in  no  hurry.  Life  was  delightful  to  her  at 
present. 

She  sat  down  by  Mrs.  Kenneth  and  was  very  quiet. 

"What  are  you  thinking  about?"  Mrs.  Kenneth 
asked,  presently. 

"  About  them,"  she  answered,  with  a  slight  inclina- 
tion of  the  head.  "  Princess  has  always  liked  him  so 
much.  And  it  came  in  my  mind  that  he  was  almost  or 
quite  in  love  with  her." 

"  Quite;  "  with  a  gratified  intonation. 

"  O,  that  is  delightful  !  Princess  is  such  a  darling. 
And  she  will  have  to  live  in  the  city — afterward." 

"  Yes,  the  others'  loss  will  be  our  gain." 

"  I  was  wondering  how  you  could  plan  so  calmly  to 
give  him  up  when  Mrs.  Phillips  came  home." 

"O,  I  thought  I  couldn't  put  any  more  burthens  on 
Margaret." 

Then  they  lapsed  into  silence. 

Princess  said  good-night  to  her  lover  and  was  flying 
upstairs  when  Bertram  caught  her. 

"Did  you  go  out?"  he  asked.  "I  wanted  to  come 
to  dinner,  but  the  professor  said — well,  I  can't  remember, 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  ILLUMINES.  287 

only  he  put  me  off,  and  he  seldom  does,  you  know.  It's 
like  another  home  around  there,  and  I  am  always  wel- 
come. Then  I  heard  you  had  gone,  and  it  seemed 
queer." 

"Bert,  have  you  taken  out  a  mortgage  on  the  pro- 
fessor?" she  asked,  laughingly,  glad  he  could  not  see 
her  scarlet  cheeks. 

"  Princess  !  "  called  Aunt  Lyndell. 

Princess  paused  in  the  doorway  of  Auntie  Dell's  study 
and  library.  The  children  often  spent  their  evenings 
here,  but  now  she  was  alone. 

"  Princess  dear — did  you  have  a  pleasant  time?  Un- 
cle Con  has  been  here.  I  think  I  ought  to  tell  you — he 
and  Sherburne  had  a — quarrel — quite  a  desperate  one  I 
fancy.  Do  you  know  anything  they  could  quarrel 
about?" 

Princess  turned  pale,  then  red,  and  looked  extremely 
troubled,  but  was  silent. 

"Was  it  anything  about  Gertrude  Maurice?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Princess,  faintly. 

"I've  been  putting  several  little  things  together  and 
the  sum  total  seemed  Mrs.  Murray.  Sherburne  used  to 
be  at  Mrs.  Townsend's  a  good  deal,  but  I  never  thought 
of  such  a  thing.  There  were  so  many  people,  young 
men  and  old  men.  And  Miss  Maurice,  as  she  was  then, 
seemed  a  very  sensible  sort  of  girl  who  was  not  likely  to 
take  to  a  young  fellow  '  with  all  the  world  before  him 
where  to  choose.'  And  Uncle  Con  was  nearly  always 
there." 

Princess  was  very  much  embarrassed.  It  did  not  seem 
to  her  either  of  her  two  lovers  had  had  very  much  en- 
couragement, yet  they  had  both  resolved  upon  a  proposal. 
Was  Gertrude  altogether  at  fault  ? 


288  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  Sherburne  hasn't  been  going  on  at  all  well,  latterly. 
Uncle  Carew  is  quite  discouraged  with  him.  And  Ber- 
tram is  a  splendid  boy,  and  student.  Uncle  is  puz- 
zled to  know  what  to  do  about  it.  Your  father  could 
command  Jiim  to  return,  but  that  is  such  a  peremp- 
tory step.  And  uncle  hates  to  find  fault.  But  I 
wish  he  had  been  at  home  to-night.  Uncle  Con 
went  away  without  seeing  any  one,  but  he  left  word  that 
you  were  to  come  around  to-morrow  morning  and  stay  to 
luncheon.  Then  Sherburne  went  out  and  has  not  come 
in  yet.     He  stays  out  too  late." 

Princess  had  been  considering.  "  Yes,  Auntie  Dell, 
there  was  some  trouble.  Sherburne  thought  himself  ill- 
used." 

"  Well — /think  we  would  all  have  considered  it  a  very 
bad  move  on  Gertrude's  part  to  entertain  a  thought  of 
Sherburne  as  a  candidate  for  her  hand,  or  to  consent  to 
a  long  and  uncertain  engagement.  And  it  seems  that  it 
was  no  sudden  move  on  Uncle  Con's  side." 

"No,"  answered  Princess,  in  an  assured  tone. 

"  I  dare  say  you  were  in  his  confidence."  There  was 
a  smiling  brightness  in  Aunt  Lyndell's  eyes.  "And 
I  think  it  an  excellent  match.  Beside,  Princess,  Uncle 
Con  isn't  the  sort  of  man  to  stand  any  poaching  on  his 
preserve,  so  unless  Gertrude  was  very  deceitful,  I  think 
there  couldn't  have  been  much  flirting  between  them.  I 
am  sorry  enough,  but  Sherburne  ought  to  have  more 
sense,  and  when  Gertrude  married  there  was  an  end  of 
it.  But  I  notice  he  has  been  gloomy  and  cynical  and 
cross.  My  dear  child,  I  think  you  had  better  write  to 
your  mother.  She  has  such  good  sense  and  judgment 
and  patience.  Or  perhaps  it  would  be  best  to  wait  and 
hear  Uncle  Con's  version.     Dear,  what  a  shame  to  bother 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  ILLUMINES.  289 

you,  but  I  did  not  have  uncle  to  confer  with,  and  he  will 
come  in  dead  tired  from  a  medical  meeting.  You  look 
tired,  too.     Kiss  me  and  run  to  bed." 

Her  secret  was  too  sacred  to  be  brought  out  after  this. 
The  consciousness  of  some  one  caring  for  her  who  would 
take  up  any  burthen  of  hers  quite  as  if  it  was  his  own, 
comforted  her  greatly.  She  was  beginning  to  understand 
that  the  mysterious  sympathy  was  deeper,  or  that  it  went 
farther  into  one's  life  than  that  of  parents  even.  O,  was 
that  ungrateful  ? 

She  could  not  be  wholly  unhappy.  In  a  half  dream 
she  floated  out  upon  that  rosy  sea,  where  love  held  the 
tiller  and  the  current  defying  any  analysis,  drifted  her 
through  narrows  and  out  to  sunny  breadths,  past 
shaded  nooks  and  islands  fragrant  with  bloom,  on  and 
on  to  the  enchanted  land  where  youth  is  glorified. 

Sherburne  was  sullen  and  silent  the  next  morning,  and 
hurried  out  before  Princess  could  have  a  word  with  him. 
She  dreaded  to  meet  Gertrude,  but  she  knew  it  was  best. 
Aunt  Millicent  came  in  and  asked  her  to  drive  and  also 
to  look  at  a  fine  collection  of  paintings  at  the  art  gal- 
leries. She  was  very  glad  to  defer  her  evil  hour  as  long 
as  possible,  but  it  had  to  come  at  length.  Aunt  Milly 
put  her  down  at  her  uncle's. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,"  Gertrude  began,  hold- 
ing her  hand,  but  not  offering  her  the  cordial  kiss  trem- 
bling on  her  lips,  for  Princess  looked  so  serious  and  dig- 
nified. "And  if  I  have  done  anything  to  trouble  or 
annoy  you,  Princess,  I  am  truly  sorry.  I  do  regret  last 
evening.  Con  went  around  to  see  you  and  he  stumbled 
over  Sherburne,  whom  he  had  not  met  since  our  mar- 
riage. Sherburne  said  something  that  offended  him,  and 
though  he  seems  so  easy  and  jolly,  he  has  quite  a  hot 


29o  THE   II KIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

temper  on  occasions,"  smiling  a  little.  "  And  so  they 
had  rather  high  words.  Sherburne  has  told  you  the  story 
as  he  looks  at  it.     I  wish  you  would  let  me  tell  mine." 

She  had  been  removing  Princess'  wraps  and  now  seated 
her  in  an  easy-chair.  There  was  such  a  frank  cordiality 
in  her  manner,  that  the  young  girl's  prejudices  seemed 
swept  away  in  spite  of  the  obstacles  and  protections  she 
summoned  back  hastily.  For  somehow  Gertrude  looked 
charming  this  morning,  softened,  entreating,  but  Princess 
remembered  it  was  her  brother  and  resolved  not  to  yield 
too  easily,  and  to  judge  fairly. 

"Yes,"  in  a  tone  of  gracious  permission,  rather  than 
cordial  assent. 

Gertrude's  temper  flared  up  a  bit  and  flushed  her 
cheek.  But  she  had  resolved  her  patience  should  make 
amends  for  Con's  hastiness. 

"  I  am  going  to  begin  way  back  in  the  first  of  all,"  she 
said,  with  a  little  tremble  in  her  voice,  but  smiling  over  it 
and  crowding  it  down.  "  Princess,  if  I  had  let  myself  I 
should  have  fallen  desperately  in  love  with  your  uncle 
that  summer  at  Melchias.  And  I  know  now  that  he  took 
a  warm  interest  in  me.  Young  as  I  was  it  influenced  me 
in  this  way — I  began  to  measure  other  men  by  him  and 
contrast  them  with  what  he  said  and  did.  And  I 
honestly  believe  if  he  had  not  asked  me  to  marry  him  I 
should  have  gone  on  with  Mrs.  Townsend  for  years. 
When  I  did  not  see  him  I  could  put  him  out  of  my 
mind,  but  when  he  came " 

Gertrude  smiled  and  flushed.  Princess  flushed  a  little 
as  well.  She,  too,  had  been  trying  to  put  some  one  out 
of  her  mind,  and  there  was  a  secret  sympathy. 

Then  she  began  with  the  first  day  she  had  met  Sher- 
burne, and  told  the  little  story  straightforwardly. 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  ILLUMINES.  291 

"  You  see  it  would  have  been  folly  to  listen  to  such  a 
thing,  and  when  I  was  really  in  love  with  some  one  else. 
Of  course  if  I  had  been  ambitious  on  certain  lines,  or 
susceptible  to  youth  and  a  handsome  face  !  Young  men  do 
take  freaks  of  unreasonable  adoration,  and  recover  from  it. 
And  it  is  foolish  to  go  on  caring  when  it  is  so  utterly  hope- 
less. I  wonder  if  that  isn't  obstinacy  as  well  as  prefer- 
ence ?  ' ' 

Princess  gave  a  long  sigh. 

"  You  see  I  had  no  idea  of  any  special  earnestness  on 
his  part,  except  the  indulgence  of  a  youthful  fancy.  If  I 
could  have  listened  and  consented  to  an  engagement,  I 
do  honestly  believe  that  Sherburne  would  have  found  it 
irksome  and  been  first  to  tire  of  it.  And  I  know  all 
your  family  would  have  considered  it  extremely  unwise." 

Yes,  Princess  understood  that.  Sherburne  had  exag- 
gerated some  points,  but  when  Gertrude  became  en- 
gaged to  Uncle  Con  he  should  have  given  her  up  in  a 
manly  fashion  and  not  accused  her  of  mercenary  mo- 
tives, for  Princess  had  become  suddenly  wise,  and  she 
knew  by  the  lights  and  depths  and  tenderness  in  her 
friend's  eyes  at  the  mention  of  Uncle  Con's  name,  where 
her  true  interest  had  always  lain. 

"  And  we  both  supposed  the  marriage  would  end  Sher- 
burne's unfortunate  fancy,  but  it  seems  not  to.  I  do  not 
want  it  to  go  on  and  make  trouble.  And  Sherburne  has 
no  right  to  allow  it  to  distract  his  attention  from  other 
matters  that  are  important  to  his  coming  life.  When  he 
gets  over  it  he  will  wonder  at  his  foolishness." 

Princess  looked  up  with  large,  soft,  wistful  eyes.  Was 
there  anything  else  to  be  said  ? 

Gertrude  threw  herself  on  a  hassock  and  leaned  against 
the  girl's  knee,  taking  both  small  hands  in  hers. 


292  THE   HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"And,  Princess,  you  may  never  know  how  rare  ami 
difficult  it  is  to  keep  the  golden  mean  of  acquaintance- 
ship when  it  is  your  business  to  be  agreeable  to  every- 
body, and  when  you  have  a  secret  longing  to  be  liked, 
perhaps  a  little  more  than  liked.  You  have  had  so  much 
love  in  your  life  there  have  never  been  dry,  hungry 
places  hard  to  get  over  as  desert  sands.  I've  always  en- 
vied you,  and  one  thing  made  Con  more  precious  to  me 
— the  large  circle  of  family  relations,  the  intelligent  and 
charming  people,  whose  esteem  I  hope  to  gain  and  keep. 
And  if  in  the  beginning  I  did  little  gracious  things  that 
look  like  flirtation,  I  am  very  sorry.  But  I  told  him 
frankly,  decisively,  before  your  uncle  spoke,  that  I  could 
not  marry  him,  and  since  then  I  certainly  have  not  been 
to  blame." 

Gertrude's  eyes  were  dewy  almost  to  tears,  and  Prin- 
cess' impulse  of  tenderness  went  out  to  her.  For  had 
not  she  known  something  of  this  ?  Had  she  not  tried  to 
do  more  than  like  Mr.  Sevier  ?  What  if  in  the  end  he 
should  accuse  her  of  flirting  ?  He  could  not  in  reason 
accuse  her  of  being  mercenary. 

"That  is  almost  a  smile,  Princess.  What  does  it 
mean  ?     And  this  mysterious  elusive  sweetness " 

Princess    buried    her    face    on   Gertrude's   shoulder. 

"Perhaps  I  know  more  about  love,  and  that  difficult 
golden  mean  than  you  think,"  she  replied,  with  a  whis- 
pered tremulousness.       "And  you  can  understand " 

She  was  glad  she  had  written  to  her  mother.  Of 
course  some  of  the  elders  ought  to  have  been  told,  and 
Ruth  was  more  her  chosen  friend  than  Gertrude,  but  this 
inexplicable  touch  of  the  sweetest  of  all  knowledge  made 
them  friends  as  they  had  never  been  before,  and  for  all 
time. 


THE  LIGHT  THAT  ILLUMINES.  293 

"And  it's  queer,"  declared  Gertrude,  laughing  through 
her  tears,  "that  you  haven't  given  your  heart  to  a  gay 
young  fellow  to  go  dancing  down  the  next  half  dozen 
years.  But  after  all,  youth  is  such  a  gay,  glad  time,  and 
there  is  but  one  youth. 

"I  thought  it  would  be  a  case  of  propinquity,"  Ger- 
trude continued,  after  a  pause.  "  Do  you  know  that 
Ruth  Ensign  is  a  very  charming  home  girl  ?  She  can 
always  see  the  most  delightful  thing  to  be  done,  she  loves 
to  minister  to  people ;  she  has  so  many  sweet,  dainty 
ways.  She  makes  goodness  lovable,  and  a  great  many 
people  think  it  ought  to  stand  on  its  own  foundation 
quite  alone  as  mere  goodness.  But  you  had  written  your 
name  on  his  heart  before  that.  Melchias  has  a  great 
deal  to  answer  for.  When  we  all  get  old  we  ought  to  go 
up  there  and  have  an  experience  meeting." 

Uncle  Con  was  delighted  when  he  came  home  and 
found  the  two  women  the  best  of  friends.  He  looked  a 
trifle  grave  over  Princess'  engagement — he  had  counted 
on  some  years  of  girl  life  for  her.  As  for  himself,  he  ad- 
mired the  professor  extremely,  and  he  would  certainly 
attain  eminence  in  his  calling. 

He  had  been  really  angry  the  evening  before  with 
Sherburne's  persistence  and  wrong  way  of  looking  at 
matters.  If  in  his  secret  heart  he  thought  Gertrude  had 
sometimes  been  unduly  attractive,  he  was  also  confident 
the  prospect  had  never  for  a  moment  tempted  her  with 
its  youth  and  glamour. 

"  There  is  nothing  but  to  wait  and  let  him  come  to 
his  senses,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

FROM    YOUTH    TO    MANHOOD. 

T)RINCESS  was  curiously,  unreasonably  happy  she  said 
*  to  herself.  Sherburne  angrily  accused  her  of  going 
over  to  the  enemy  hand  and  foot,  and  in  a  tragic  tone 
declared  she  would  some  day  realize  the  cheat  and  de- 
ception, and  the  utter  selfishness  of  the  whole  world. 

But  there  were  two  very  busy  days  when  she  and  Ger- 
trude went  over  the  new  house  and  discussed  furniture 
and  haunted  stores,  while  Uncle  Con  laughed  at  the  un- 
certainty of  women's  minds,  and  yet  spent  every  spare  mo- 
ment that  he  could  with  them.  The  professor  haunted  them 
also.  He  was  a  rather  shy  and  delicate  lover,  but  the 
exquisite  friendliness  was  more  to  Princess'  liking  until 
the  matter  was  really  settled. 

And  then  came  mamma's  letter.  Of  course  she  could 
not  plead  surprise,  and  there  was  a  tender  sympathy  in 
every  line.  So  long  as  Princess  was  quite  sure — but  it 
would  be  well  not  to  decide  too  hastily.  Papa  had  nearly 
set  his  heart  upon  Mr.  Sevier. 

There  was  a  little  halt  in  the  letter,  which  was  inter- 
rupted by  a  call  and  luncheon,  and  the  children  going 
out  to  a  birthday  feast.  Papa  had  come  home  quite  ill 
and  they  had  sent  for  Doctor  Underwood. 

A  few  lines  were  added  in  the  morning.  The  case 
was  pneumonia  and  a  serious  one.  Would  she  return 
home  at  once  ?  The  boys  would  be  telegraphed  to  later 
on. 

294 


FROM    YOUTH  TO  MANHOOD.  295 

Doctor  Carew  was  much  moved,  and  was  fain  to  send 
Sherburne  with  her. 

"  You  see  they  do  not  want  either  of  us,"  he  said,  in 
a  coldly  indifferent  tone  persuading  himself  that  he  felt 
really  hurt  at  the  word. 

But  the  next  day  not  only  were  the  boys  summoned 
but  Doctor  Carew  entreated  to  accompany  them. 

"It  must  be  critical,"  declared  Lyndell.  "But  Doc- 
tor Underwood  is  so  full  of  resources  and  keeps  up  to 
the  high  mark  in  his  profession.  Still,  Tessy  will  feel 
better  satisfied  if  you  are  there." 

He  knew  how  critical  the  case  was  from  another  mes- 
sage that  he  had  not  mentioned.  And  all  these  hours 
must  elapse  before  he  could  be  of  any  assistance,  if  indeed 
assistance  were  needed  then. 

Bertram  was  shocked  at  first  and  could  not  keep  the 
tears  from  his  eyes.  He  glanced  over  the  paper  but 
everything  blurred,  he  looked  out  on  the  dreary  March 
landscape  as  it  whirled  by  and  it  seemed  to  express  deso- 
lation rather  than  the  coming  of  spring.  After  awhile 
he  turned  to  his  books,  he  had  counted  on  passing  away 
the  tedium  with  study,  but  he  could  only  think  of  Sher- 
burne House  and  the  anxious,  sorrowing  household,  his 
dear  mother  !  Of  course,  papa  could  not  die.  He  had 
never  known  him  in  any  state  but  robust  health.  Yet 
there  would  be  days  when  no  one  would  know  except 
each  in  his  secret  heart. 

Doctor  Carew  found  a  friend  on  the  train  and  they  fell 
into  a  discussion.  Sherburne  sat  gloomily,  his  thoughts 
a  curious  chaos.  Not  any  more  than  Bertram  would  he 
believe  death  possible,  but  an  awful  fear  tugged  at  his 
heart.  He  went  out  to  the  smoking  car,  but  the  cigar 
had  no  flavor,  and  the  men  were  laughing  at  some  rough 


296  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

stories.  The  air  was  stifling.  So  he  returned  and  picked 
up  the  paper.  If  one  could  only  get  along  without 
thinking  !  But  it  was  better  even  to  see  the  stricken 
household  with  that  far  sight,  than  it  was  to  live  over  the 
last  two  months  and  his  woes. 

The  journey  seemed  endless,  but  few  things  really  are 
in  this  world.  Doctor  Carew  had  tried  to  lighten  the 
burthen  for  both  boys,  but  only  Bertram  had  responded. 
More  than  once  he  had  stolen  a  glance  at  Sherburne's 
handsome,  gloomy  face,  and  thought  of  his  own  disap- 
pointment in  the  lad.  Could  he  have  made  the  path 
more  attractive  for  youthful  feet  ?  He  had  a  feeling  that 
he  had  not  done  his  cordial  best,  because  he  had  not 
quite  approved. 

Yet  he  did  feel  thankful  Sherburne  had  not  plunged 
into  dissipation.  He  would  be  saved  the  mortifying  con- 
sciousness of  not  having  been  able  to  cope  with  that 
viciousness.  And  perhaps  a  shock  like  this  would  rouse 
the  latent  manhood  in  him. 

They  reached  Sherburne  House  just  at  the  edge  of  the 
evening.  Tessy  came  to  meet  them  in  the  spacious  hall. 
She  put  out  her  hand  to  Doctor  Carew,  then  went  to  the 
strong  arms  of  her  firstborn  son,  and  in  an  instant  seemed 
to  live  over  the  first  absorbing  year  of  her  happy  married 
life,  crowned  indeed  by  his  coming. 

How  small  and  sweet,  and  exhausted  she  was  !  What 
if  all  the  rest  of  her  life  he  was  to  be  her  protector  and 
try  to  fill  a  vacant  place  that  after  all  never  could  be 
filled.  A  solemn  impression  of  responsibility  seemed  to 
overwhelm  him.  No  one  had  spoken.  Doctor  Carew, 
so  used  to  the  house,  had  hurried  up  to  the  sick  chamber. 
What  if 

"O  mamma,  mamma!"  cried  Bertram,  crowding  in 


FROM    YOUTH  TO   MANHOOD.  297 

and  kissing  the  wet  face  in  a  passion  of  sorrow,  "  God 
will  be  good  to  us  !  It  has  been  in  my  heart  every 
moment  of  the  journey  from  Washington,  and  isn't 
that  strong  desire  prayer?  I  know  he  will  hear  and 
answer." 

"How  is  he?"  asked  Sherburne,  huskily. 
"He  has  been  unconscious  since  noon." 
To  Tessy  Beaumanoir  the  bitterness  of  death  had  al- 
ready passed.  When  she  had  looked  upon  the  white, 
still  face,  the  half-closed  eyes,  and  kissed  down  on  the 
damp  cool  brow  she  felt  it  was  the  last  farewell.  She 
had  not  dared  to  plead  for  a  word.     Doctor  Underwood 

had  said 

"  You  may  come  in  a  moment  if  you  will  not  speak  or 
utter  the  slightest  sound." 

Then  she  had  gone  out  again  and  tried  to  comfort  the 
household. 

"You  have  had  no  supper."  Then  she  put  an  arm 
about  each  of  her  boys,  both  so  much  taller  than  she, 
and  they  walked  through  to  the  dining-room.  But  no  one 
could  eat.  Sherburne  drank  a  cup  of  tea.  Princess 
came  in  and  afterward  they  adjourned  to  the  sitting- 
room,  where  the  other  children  were  huddled  together, 
waiting  in  breathless  awe. 

Tessy  Beaumanoir  knew  she  has  been  blessed  among 
women.  All  these  years  no  evil  had  come  nigh  her. 
There  had  been  few  illnesses,  not  at  all  alarming,  there 
had  been  prosperity,  satisfaction,  happiness  and  worldly 
advancement.  Yesterday  she  had  wept  and  prayed,  and 
said  she  could  not  yield  up  this  best  love  of  her  life  upon 
God's  altar.  But  to-day  she  knew  it  all  belonged  to  God, 
husband,  children,  prosperity,  happiness.  Whatever  He 
sent  she  must  accept.     She  would  suffer  in  the  sorrow, 


298  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

had   not  even  He  wept  over  his  friend's  grave,   but  it 
would  not  be  as  those  without  hope. 

They  did  not  try  to  talk  after  the  first  few  questions 
Princess  asked.  Doctor  Carew  came  down  for  some  sup- 
per and  took  their  mother  out  with  him.  Years  ago,  he 
remembered  he  had  fought  for  the  young  life,  and  rea- 
son with  it  as  well. 

Tessy  looked  her  wordless  question. 

"  No  one  can  tell,"  he  answered.  "  There  is  nothing 
I  can  do  or  suggest,  yet  I  am  glad  you  sent  for  me. 
Dr.  Underwood  has  been  splendid." 

"They  were  not  so  alarmed  at  first.  I  think  if  he 
had  come  home  at  once — but  we  cannot  distrust  God's 
wisdom.  And  when  they  thought  there  would  be  a  turn 
for  the  better,  it  was  worse  instead.  Everybody  has 
been  full  of  kindness  and  solicitude. ' ' 

"Now  there  is  only  waiting.  There  comes  a  time 
when  the  issues  of  life  and  death  rest  alone  with  God. 
My  great  hope  is  in  Leonard's  splendid  constitution. 
If  he  should  go  through  the  night,  the  test  of  that  will 
come  afterward." 

Then  he  returned  to  the  patient.  There  was  no 
change. 

"You  will  remain?"  he  inquired  of  Doctor  Under- 
wood. 

"  O  yes.  I  have  had  some  one  with  me  the  last  two 
nights.     Somehow  I  can't  give  him  up." 

After  awhile  the  children  kissed  their  mother  good- 
night and  went  to  bed.  Bertram  was  both  tired  and 
sleepy. 

"  Will  you  not  go  as  well  ?  "  she  asked  of  Sherburne. 

"  No.  I  couldn't  sleep.  Let  me  stay  with  you,"  and 
the  voice  was  beseeching. 


FROM   YOUTH  TO   MANHOOD.  299 

"Then  we  will  go  upstairs." 

Sherburne  followed  his  mother  to  the  room  adjoining 
that  in  which  his  father  lay.  The  door  was  closed. 
There  was  a  cheerful  fire  upon  the  wide  hearth  and  a 
lounge  with  a  slumber  robe  thrown  carelessly  over  it. 

"You  had  better  lie  down,"  he  said,  softly.  "You 
look  exhausted." 

She  suffered  herself  to  be  placed  comfortably  and  cov- 
ered.    Then  he  drew  his  chair  up  beside  her. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  softly.  "We  cannot  talk 
lest  we  disturb  them.  But  there  will  be  time  enough  for 
that." 

She  was  so  white  and  wan  that  his  heart  was  moved 
immeasurably. 

In  his  father's  young  life  there  had  been  two  years  of 
invalidism  from  an  accident,  and  everybody  had  joined 
in  attention  and  caresses  until  he  had  felt  as  if  the  world 
was  really  made  for  his  enjoyment.  And  though  this 
luxury  of  indulgence  had  not  been  Sherburne's,  nothing 
had  been  demanded  from  him.  His  two  years  abroad 
had  been  quite  self-indulgent,  and  he  had  enjoyed  no 
little  admiration.  To  consider  another's  comfort  would 
be  an  acquired  rather  than  inherited  virtue.  Not  that  he 
was  more  selfish  than  hundreds  of  young  people  to  whom 
fate  has  been  kindly. 

But  as  he  sat  here  now  his  heart  warmed  strangely  to 
his  mother.  If  any  one  had  suggested  that  he  did  not 
truly  love  her,  he  would  have  been  angry  enough  to 
knock  him  down.  And  yet — what  was  love  but  readiness 
to  do  another's  pleasure,  not  simply  the  pleasure  of  one 
bright  attractive  woman  with  whom  one  might  come  to 
read  a  page  of  romance,  but  a  finer,  deeper  devotion  to 
all  the  claims  of  life.     And  if  sorrow  should  constitute 


3oo  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

him  the  head  of  the  house — which,  God  forbid,  duty 
alone  would  not  suffice.  He  knew  then  it  would  take  a 
great  deal  of  love  and  self-denial  to  comfort  the  sorrow- 
ing ones.     They  had  a  right  to  demand  it  of  him. 

He  was  amazed  at  himself.  His  nature  seemed  an 
unknown  territory,  and  he  hardly  knew  what  was  planted 
there,  even  if  he  had  done  it  largely  himself.  For  the 
first  time  he  did  not  feel  elated,  rather  humiliated,  in- 
stead. 

Now  and  then  a  step  of  the  servants  went  up  and 
down.  Once  something  was  needed  in  the  other  cham- 
ber, then  that  awesome  silence  again,  the  dreary  mid- 
night silence. 

Bertram  Carew  entered  and  went  over  to  Tessy  who 
half  rose,  and  turned  entreating  eyes  to  him. 

"He  holds  his  own,"  he  said,  softly,  but  it  seemed  as 
if  there  was  hope  in  his  voice. 

"  But  he  has  not " 

"  I  doubt  if  there  will  be  a  return  to  consciousness  un- 
til all  is  decided.  Are  you  comfortable?  Sherburne, 
you  look  weary." 

"  O,  you  ought  to  go  to  bed,"  said  his  mother. 
"  I  want  to  stay  here." 

The  tone  was  low,  but  decisive.  And  Doctor  Carew 
was  glad  of  the  decision. 

Tessy  did  doze  now  and  then  a  brief  moment.  Sher- 
burne fixed  the  fire  and  gazed  dreamily  at  the  thin  blue 
flames  turning  to  red  and  glaring  gold. 

Twice  more  before  dawn  the  same  not  uncheering 
news  came  in.  Sherburne  rose  stiff  and  numb  and 
walked  to  the  window.  The  sky  was  overcast,  the  east 
thick  with  clouds  and  the  wind  moaned  through  the 
great  trees.     He  felt  strangely  depressed. 


FROM   YOUTH  TO   MANHOOD.  301 

It  grew  lighter,  and  the  servants  began  to  stir  about. 
One  of  the  young  lads  brought  up  a  great  basketful  of  wood. 
"Softly,"  Sherburne  said,  with  a  warning  finger. 
Tessy  rose  and  came  to  embrace  her  son,  who  kissed 
her  with  a  new  tenderness. 

"There  must  be  hope,"  he  began  in  his  young  exult- 
ant voice  that  cheered  her  inexpressibly. 

Doctor  Underwood  entered  then.  "lam  going  home 
for  a  few  hours,"  he  began,  "  I  hardly  dare  breathe  hope, 
but  his  sleep  seems  tranquil,  though  his  pulse  is  very 
low.     If  nothing  worse  should  occur  between  this  and 

noon " 

"  O  heaven  bless  you  !  "  She  was  crying  on  her  son's 
breast,  but  she  put  out  her  hand. 

"  No,  don't  begin  to  hope  just  yet,"  he  entreated. 
"Sherburne,"   his  mother  entreated,   "you  must  go 
and  get  some  rest.     It  was  very  good  of  you  to  watch 
here  all  night  with  me." 

"And  a  bath.  I  am  old  and  stiff."  He  tried  to 
smile,  but  there  was  a  mistiness  in  his  eyes. 

The  duties  of  the  day  began.  There  was  breakfast 
and  the  children  gathered  about  in  a  sort  of  solemn 
eagerness  to  hear  the  news  of  papa.  Sherburne  had 
gone  to  bed,  he  was  quite  worn  out. 

Afterward  Tessy  was  admitted  to  her  husband's  bed- 
side. The  illness  had  begun  to  tell  on  his  stalwart 
frame.  His  eyes  were  sunken,  his  mouth  drawn,  and 
the  stray  white  hairs  at  his  temples  had  increased  notice- 
ably.    The  stillness  was  wonderfully  like  death. 

"  His  breathing  is  better.  But  we  thought  several 
times  through  the  night  that  he  was  surely  gone.  It  is 
curious,  Tessy,  but  there  was  another  time  when  I 
watched  with  him  and  thanked  God  as  I  do  now." 


302  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

Then  he  had  a  hope.  She  raised  her  eyes  in  wordless 
gratitude. 

By  noon  it  was  a  hope  sure  and  steadfast.  God  had 
given  him  back  from  the  confines  of  the  grave. 

"  But  it  is  still  very  critical,"  confessed  Doctor  Carew. 
"For  the  next  three  or  four  days  he  will  be  in  great 
danger  of  a  relapse  which  probably  would  prove  fatal. 
So  the  utmost  watchfulness  will  be  required." 

"  Yes,"  she  responded,  her  heart  full  of  thanksgiving. 

There  was  a  little  snow  presently.  Grandpapa  Beau- 
manoir  came  over  in  spite  of  the  cold  and  storm,  and  was 
much  moved  at  the  good  news,  as  well  as  delighted  to 
see  Doctor  Carew. 

"  You  are  our  strong  tower  in  time  of  trouble,"  he  de- 
clared.    "  And  how  is  my  dear  girl  and  the  children  ?  " 

That  meant  Lyndell,  he  knew.  No  father's  love 
could  be  more  solicitous. 

Bertram  came  for  a  greeting.  Now  that  the  great 
strain  was  removed,  for  in  youth  it  is  only  a  step  from 
despair  to  hope,  Bertram  was  full  of  enthusiasm  over 
his  progress  at  college,  and  bright  with  eager  plans. 

"  You  won't  mind  if  I  take  him  home  for  an  hour  or 
two,"  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  Grandmother  will  be 
delighted  to  see  him.     And  Sherburne?  " 

"Sherburne  sat  up  all  night  with  me,  and  has  been 
sent  to  bed."  The  little  mother's  face  glowed  as  she  said 
this. 

Bertram  was  not  very  ready  to  go,  but  he  hated  to  re- 
fuse grandpapa. 

When  Doctor  Underwood  returned  he  could  see  an 
improvement.     The  pulse  had  gained  strength. 

Judge  Beaumanoir  opened  his  eyes  presently  and  gazed 
languidly  around. 


FROM   YOUTH  TO  MANHOOD.  303 

"O  Bert,"  he  exclaimed,  feebly.  "It  is  good  to  see 
you.  I've  been  rather  shaky  and  don't  feel  very  solid 
yet." 

They  gave  him  some  nourishment  and  he  dropped  off 
to  sleep  again. 

"I  do  not  feel  very  secure,"  confessed  Doctor  Under- 
wood, "  but  there  is  a  reasonable  hope." 

"Nothing  must  excite  him  to  waste  his  strength." 

When  Sherburne  came  down  at  mid-afternoon,  he 
looked  refreshed  and  brilliant,  yet  a  little  alarmed  as 
well. 

" O,  how  could  I  sleep  so !     And  papa?  " 

"There  has  been  some  improvement.  He  knew  Un- 
cle Carew.     But  we  are  all  barred  out ' ' 

There  was  a  sweet  consenting  quiver  in  the  voice  that 
could  not  quite  steady  itself.  Sherburne  kissed  his 
mother  with  fervent  tenderness. 

The  children  wanted  a  turn  at  their  big  brother.  They 
went  off  to  the  schoolroom  so  that  they  should  not  dis- 
turb any  one. 

Matters  were  so  much  better  the  ensuing  morning,  that 
Doctor  Carew  thought  it  safe  to  return  to  his  duties. 
There  was  a  trusty  nurse,  and  a  young  doctor  employed 
at  the  hospital  to  ease  up  Doctor  Underwood  who  had 
been  most  devoted. 

"  Of  course  I  shall  not  go  back  with  you,"  said  Sher- 
burne.    "But  Bertram  had  better  return  to  his  studies." 

"Yes,"  replied  Doctor  Carew.  "I  shall  feel  more  at 
ease  to  have  you  here,  and  for  the  next  two  or  three  days 
report  morning  and  night." 

Sherburne  bowed  acquiescently. 

Bertram  was  quite  divided  in  his  duty,  but  his  mother 
overruled.     He  really  did  hate  to  lose  the  time. 


304  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

"  You  may  just  go  in  and  kiss  papa,  but  do  not  say  a 
word,"  exclaimed  his  mother. 

Papa  was  asleep.  He  tired  very  easily  and  dozed 
off. 

They  came  back  to  ordinary  life  after  the  strain. 
Princess  was  sweet  and  solicitous  and  there  were  bits  of 
confidence  between  her  and  her  mother,  and  letters  that 
brought  a  dainty  flush  to  her  cheek,  love-letters  that  she 
hardly  supposed  the  professor  could  write.  The  children 
were  so  glad  to  get  her  home  again,  and  she  had  to  spend 
the  evenings  with  them,  telling  about  "everybody,"  and 
all  she  had  seen. 

Sherburne  was  rather  grave  and  quite  devoted  to  his 
mother,  taking  charge  of  little  business  details,  and  after 
a  few  days  relieving  the  nurses  somewhat,  and  Doctor 
Underwood,  who  had  been  most  solicitous.  Fanny  was 
very  proud  of  her  husband's  skill  and  claimed  all  'the 
credit,  "  for  Doctor  Carew  did  not  really  do  anything," 
she  declared,  rather  resentfully. 

"  I  wanted  him  in  case — he  was  a  great  comfort  to 
Tessy.  I  gave  up  hope  twice  that  night,  but  Carew 
wouldn't.     He  inspires  one,"  said  her  husband. 

"  You  were  desperately  tired  out.  You  did  all  the 
real  work." 

"And  I  shall  take  all  the  credit,  never  fear,  and  de- 
mand all  the  bill,"  laughingly. 

"  Do  you  think  Sherburne  will  make  a  good  doctor  ?  " 

"  That  is  too  big  a  question  to  answer  at  present.  He 
seems  rather  more  serious  than  usual." 

The  young  man  was  doing  a  good  deal  of  thinking  in 
these  days.  He  had  been  very  gentle  to  Princess,  but 
the  subject  of  their  quarrel  had  not  been  touched  upon. 
She  felt  that  he  must  see  presently  how  really  ungenerous 


FROM   YOUTH  TO   MANHOOD.  305 

he  had  been,  and  make  amends  to  Uncle  Con  and  Ger- 
trude. 

He  spent  many  hours  in  his  father's  room.  One  of 
the  nurses  was  no  longer  needed  since  Sherburne  insisted 
upon  supplying  his  place.  He  read  a  little,  but  he  was 
ready  at  a  look  or  sound.  More  than  once  he  thought 
of  the  great  change  his  father's  death  would  have  made. 
And  it  had  come  so  near  ! 

It  was  pitiful  to  see  such  weakness.  He  had  never 
known  his  father  to  be  really  ill,  and  to  have  him  lie  an 
hour  at  a  time  pallid  and  not  even  moving  his  hand,  to 
hear  him  speak  a  few  words  feebly,  or  leave  off  in  the 
midst  of  a  sentence  as  if  he  had  no  strength  for  the  next 
word,  made  the  case  seem  absolutely  hopeless  yet  to  him. 
And  when  the  nurse  fed  him  and  he  resigned  himself  to 
the  ministrations  without  even  a  sigh,  Sherburne  was 
inexpressibly  shocked.  He  had  seen  some  cases  of  utter 
helplessness  in  the  hospitals  that  were  considered  incur- 
able ;  what  if  this  should  be  paralysis  in  some  insidious 
form  ? 

"Do  you  truly  think  he  will  recover?"  he  asked, 
earnestly,  of  Doctor  Underwood  one  morning.  "  He 
doesn't  seem  to  make  any  improvement." 

"Yes,  he  has  made  a  great  deal,"  with  a  kindly,  en- 
couraging smile.  "  You  are  hardly  old  enough  in  the 
business  to  have  medical  eyes  that  can  detect  the  slight 
alterations.  He  was  very  ill,  and  he  no  longer  has  youth 
on  his  side,  though  he  has  a  fine  constitution.  Look  at 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beaumanoir  at  their  time  of  life  !  We  are 
proud  enough  of  them.  But  your  father  has  developed 
a  good  deal  of  heart  weakness  and  no  one  can  hurry 
that.  Are  you  anxious  to  get  back  to  your  studies? 
Are  you  deeply  interested,  Sherburne?  " 


306  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

"  I  like  some  aspects  of  medicine.  No,  I  can't  say 
that  I  am  deeply  interested." 

"  A  man's  whole  soul  ought  to  be  in  his  profession.  I 
felt  sorry  you  could  not  consider  it  the  right  thing  to  fol- 
low your  father's  wishes.  And  now  he  will  need  a  son 
more  than  ever  whose  interests  would  lie  in  the  same  di- 
rection. Thank  heaven  I  shall  have  a  boy  who  will  fol- 
low in  my  footsteps.  I  can  see  the  bent  of  his  mind  al- 
ready. Don't  be  discouraged.  Your  father  will  come 
out  all  right.  Indeed  it  is  a  great  advantage  to  both  of 
us  that  he  should  not  worry  about  anything." 

Sherburne,  left  quite  alone,  glanced  out  of  the  win- 
dow. It  was  a  glorious  April  morning.  In  less  than  a 
week  spring  had  burst  into  wonderful  growth  and  loveli- 
ness. All  the  air  was  sweet,  and  one  could  have  the 
windows  open.  New  life  was  rejoicing  everywhere,  in 
the  fragrant  breeze,  in  the  song  of  birds,  in  the  new 
leaves,  the  woodland  bloom. 

"A  son  whose  interests  would  lie  in  the  same  direc- 
tion." His  uncle's  words  seemed  to  linger  in  the  very 
air,  and  to  smite  him  with  a  feeling  he  could  not  analyze 
on  the  instant.  Then  he  glanced  at  the  pale,  still  face, 
fine,  handsome  and  noble,  in  spite  of  the  lines  of  ill- 
ness. 

What  a  long  holiday  his  twenty  years  had  been ! 
There  was  great  rejoicing  over  his  birth,  and  he  had  been 
named  for  his  great  uncle  who  had  died  in  youth  away  from 
home.  This  splendid  old  Sherburne  House  was  to  be  his 
some  day,  it  had  been  a  grand  gift  of  Aunt  Lyndell. 
His  boyhood  had  been  full  of  love  and  pleasure,  his 
school-days  bright  with  study,  games,  fun  and  a  long  de- 
lightsome vacation  every  summer  with  the  most  gladsome 
of  home  joys  and  love  and   indulgence  on  every  side. 


FROM   YOUTH   TO  MANHOOD.  307 

He  had  taken  his  own  way  in  entering  a  German  univer- 
sity, and  then  he  had  changed  his  mind,  why  he  hardly 
knew,  except  that  he  had  an  overwhelming  fancy  to  re- 
main in  New  York. 

And  he  had  really  wasted  his  winter.  He  saw  that 
now.  He  had  the  gift  of  acquiring  easily,  and  he 
was  interested  in  study.  He  had  been  ambitious,  too. 
Heretofore  he  had  taken  a  pride  in  distinguishing  him- 
self. 

He  wondered  now  what  he  had  given  back  for  all  this 
love  and  care  !  He  had  dipped  into  a  few  boyish  follies, 
but  in  the  main  he  had  been  clean  and  wholesome  and 
upright.  That  was  largely  his  mother's  wise,  gentle  in- 
fluence. And  now — how  delightful  he  could  make  all  his 
father's  coming  years  ! 

The  judge  woke  and  stirred.  Sherburne  was  beside 
him  with  an  entreating,  questioning  glance. 

"I  should  like  a  drink.  And  Sherburne,  smooth 
this  pillow.  Push  it  up  a  little.  That  is  right.  O  my 
son,  how  good  it  is  to  have  you  here." 

The  dark  eyes  immeasurably  softened,  smiled  down 
into  his,  and  affection  awoke  in  every  line  of  the  boyish 
face.  He  bent  over  and  kissed  his  father  with  a  new  and 
reverent  tenderness. 

After  the  first  week  there  was  a  decided  change. 
What  an  atmosphere  of  joy  it  diffused  through  the  house  ! 
The  children  were  allowed  in  singly.  Princess  brought 
her  sewing  and  sat  by  the  window ;  she  had  inherited  her 
mother's  grace  of  being  busy  without  any  flutter  or  the 
confusion  so  annoying  to  illness.  And  the  devoted  wife 
looked  after  bodily  comforts. 

"Sherburne,"  his  father  said  one  morning,  as  he  was 
bolstered  up  in  the  bed,  "  I  wish  you  would  get  the  let- 


308  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERliURNE. 

ters  and  read  them  over  to  me.  You  will  have  to  be  my 
private  secretary  for  awhile." 

"Gladly,"  was  the  reply. 

So  the  letters  were  read  and  commented  upon.  It  did 
seem  as  if  the  head  of  the  legal  firm  had  been  greatly 
missed,  and  already  some  matters  had  gone  awry.  Me 
sighed  a  little. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  would  mind  going  up  to  Washing- 
ton ?  "  he  asked,  rather  feebly. 

"O  no,"  with  cheerful  readiness.  "Anything  that  I 
can  do  for  you." 

"  Then  if  you  will  help  me  straighten  out  these  matters 
a  bit  and  do  a  little  writing.  There  is  an  important  case 
coming  on,  too.  I  did  mean  to  argue  it,  but  I  shall  not 
be  able.  I  should  like  to  know  what  points  Bristow  is 
making." 

Sherburne  rolled  out  the  table  and  began  to  arrange 
for  business,  answering  letters,  jotting  down  various 
points,  and  his  well-trained  mind  was  of  great  assistance 
to  the  judge's  rather  lethargic  intellection.  There  was  a 
silence  of  some  moments  and  the  broad  brow  gathered 
into  a  perceptible  frown. 

"  O  dear,  illness  does  play  havoc  with  a  man's  perspi- 
cacity," he  said,  in  a  discouraged  tone.  "  I'm  tired  and 
my  wits  have  gone  wool-gathering.  See  what  you  can  do 
by  yourself,  Sherburne." 

The  judge  nestled  down  among  the  pillows  and  in  a 
few  moments  was  breathing  regularly  in  a  pleasant  slum- 
ber, unmindful  of  aught  else. 

Tessy  had  felt  a  little  troubled  about  this.  The  judge 
had  trained  himself  to  be  especially  alert. 

"It  is  the  very  best  thing  that  could  happen  to 
him,"  said  Doctor  Underwood,  "  though  it  shows  that  he 


FROM   YOUTH   TO  MANHOOD.  309 

has  come  very  close  to  physical  exhaustion.  If  he  was 
nervous  and  wakeful  it  would  prolong  the  strain.  Let 
him  sleep  all  he  can." 

Sherburne  read  letters  and  made  drafts  of  answers. 
Then  there  were  opinions.  He  did  not  want  to  go 
rummaging  through  the  library  and  used  his  own  judg- 
ment and  the  knowledge  he  had  gleaned  promiscuously. 
When  his  father  woke  and  had  a  glass  of  milk  they  went 
on  again,  he  annotating  the  letters. 

"  Send  these  off  at  once,"  he  requested.  "  Then  this 
afternoon  we  will  take  up  the  rest.  You  may  read  to  me 
if  it  isn't  too  wearisome  to  go  over  old  news.  I  want  to 
know  what  the  world  has  been  doing  since  I  have  lain 
here." 

"Nothing  would  be  wearisome  that  affords  you  pleas- 
ure," the  son  answered,  quietly. 

Sherburne  was  a  very  fine  reader.  He  had  the  rare 
gift  of  intonation  that  could  put  the  meaning  of  a  sen- 
tence just  where  it  belonged,  and  make  any  description 
vivid.  His  voice  was  melodious  and  strong  as  well. 
What  a  fine  speaker  he  would  make,  his  father  thought, 
and  what  an  advocate  ! 

He  went  up  to  his  father's  office  the  next  morning.  Mr. 
Brislow  was  delighted  to  hear  so  good  a  report. 

"But  we've  missed  your  father  desperately  !  "  he  de- 
clared, with  emphasis.  "  Zounds  !  what  a  brain  the  man 
has  !  You  ought  to  be  proud  enough  of  being  such  a 
man's  son.  Some  day  I  hope  he  will  be  sent  abroad  to 
represent  the  country  for  its  own  honor,  though  it  needs 
such  men  at  home  as  well.     And  now  let  us  see." 

He  opened  the  packet  of  papers  and  ran  them  over 
with  numerous  comments. 

"O,  this  sounds  just  like  the  judge.     Walford,  listen 


310  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

to  this.  He  hasn't  let  his  mind  Lie  fallow  evidently. 
Sometimes  a  fever  urges  the  brain  into  brilliancy  at  the 
expense  of  common  sense,  but  it  has  not  done  so  here. 
O,  this  is  the  judge  all  over  !  Young  fellow,  you  tell 
your  father  we  can  almost  forgive  him  for  falling  ill  at 
this  crisis.  And  here  is  a  point — I've  lain  awake  nights 
trying  to  put  a  new  and  stronger  aspect  on  this 
threadbare  reasoning.  Here  it  is,  brilliant  as  gold. 
Zounds  !  Walford,  I  haven't  any  doubt  but  we  will  win 
the  case,  only  the  judge's  personal  magnetism  is  a  great 
card.     Put  in  this  point  !  " 

Sherburne  felt  the  warm  color  going  up  to  the  roots  of 
his  hair.  The  "idea  had  been  his  and  his  father  had 
seized  upon  it  eagerly.  Then  he  had  been  of  some  as- 
sistance. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    LAMP    OF    REASON. 

T  ADEN  with  a  bundle  of  papers  Sherburne  went  over 
-*-y  to  Aunt  Violet's  to  dinner.  Gayeties  had  come 
mostly  to  an  end  and  except  for  the  Easter  weddings, 
nothing  was  planned  but  summer  tours.  Uncle  Paul  was 
strongly  minded  to  spend  the  season  in  Germany  and 
Switzerland,  taking  all  the  children,  Violet  being  in- 
cluded. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Pearl,  "  that  I  think  it  an  awful 
shame  that  you  must  run  up  to  New  York  when  we 
should  have  been  so  glad  to  have  you  here,  Cousin  Sher- 
burne. You  are  by  far  too  handsome  to  be  wasted  upon 
that  helter-skelter  society,  and  you  look  as  if  you  danced 
to  perfection.  And  medicine  is  such  a  musty,  stuffy, 
horrid  profession  !  Why  couldn't  you  ask  some  one's 
advice  before  plunging  into  the  depths  of  dry  bones?" 

"Yours?"  he  inquired,  laughingly. 

"Yes,  mine.  It  is  worth  something  to  people  who 
can  shine  in  society." 

How  lovely  she  was  with  her  dazzling  complexion  and 
lustrous,  bewildering  eyes,  and  the  pretty  changing  curves 
of  her  red,  sweet  mouth  ! 

"And  I  dare  say  you  have  gone  and  engaged  yourself 
to  some  plain,  strong-minded  young  woman,  who  has  for- 
sworn the  frivolities  of  life  and  does  duty  work  in  the 
slums. ' ' 

"No,  I  am  not  engaged,"  but  he  flushed. 

3" 


312  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"On  the  very  verge  of  it,"  she  insisted. 

"Not  even  on  the  verge  of  it,"  he  answered,  laugh- 
ingly. 

"  Oh  dear  !  we  shall  all  be  old  maids  and  old  bach- 
elors !  Here  have  been  four  attractive  girl  cousins,  all 
sweet  and  amiable,  with  more  or  less  good  looks,  and  not 
one  engagement !  Princess  had  a  very  warm  admirer, 
but  Uncle  Con  whisked  her  up  to  the  city.  Doesn't 
Gertrude  Maurice  make  an  admirable  wife?  She  was 
one  of  '  us  girls' ;  that  is  some  comfort.  And  what  of 
Ned  Beaumanoir  ?  You  and  he  are  getting  on  the  seri- 
ous list." 

"Ned  hopes  to  be  a  'Ph.  D.'  in  June.  He  has  been 
teaching  and  studying.  I  have  not  seen  much  of  him. 
Is  twenty  on  the  serious  list  ?  ' ' 

"Goodness  me!  Are  you  only  twenty?  Such  a 
great  big,  handsome  fellow  !  " 

They  both  laughed  at  that,  and  then  Pearl  gave  him 
some  amusingly  serious  advice  concerning  the  snares 
young  women  would  set  for  him,  and  the  adroitness  with 
which  he  must  evade  them.  How  utterly  charming  she 
was  !     And  Violet  was  not  far  behind. 

Uncle  Paul  sent  him  over  to  the  station  in  the  carriage 
as  he  had  promised  to  come  in  on  the  late  train.  And 
somehow  he  could  not  feel  like  a  heart-broken  young 
man  who  had  suffered  the  shame  and  agony  of  a  woman's 
perfidy.  He  had  a  curious  sense  of  elation,  also  an  un- 
dercurrent of  humiliation.  Now  that  he  looked  squarely 
at  his  winter  he  had  to  admit  it  was  not  a  success,  nor 
yet  an  unsuccess  to  be  proud  of.  Yes,  he  had  really 
been  in  love  with  Gertrude  Maurice,  and  if  she  had  not 
restrained  him  he  would  have  plunged  into  all  manner  of 
foolishness.     Suppose  she  had  looked  at  him  with  such 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  313 

sweet,  wondering,  mystifying  eyes  as  Pearl  had  made  to- 
night ?  Well — of  course,  her  eyes  were  not  as  fine.  He 
had  never  insisted  to  himself  that  Gertrude  was  beauti- 
ful. And — if  she  had  loved  him — if  before  his  life  had 
been  set  in  proper  lines  he  had  been  hampered  by  an  en- 
gagement ! 

That  he  was  getting  very  much  out  of  love  and  in  the 
realm  of  common  sense  was  evident  when  his  very  soul 
gave  a  quick  throb  of  thankfulness.  And  if  she  had 
married  Uncle  Con  for  money  and  position  was  he  not 
well  rid  of  such  a  mercenary,  selfish  woman  ? 

Then  somehow  he  had  not  made  the  impression  on 
Uncle  Carew  that  he  had  hoped.  They  all  adored  him 
in  the  family,  but — well,  he  had  not  studied,  he  had  been 
careless,  wayward,  indifferent,  quite  his  own  master,  and 
Uncle  Carew  was  right  in  not  approving  of  such  a  law- 
less course.  Had  he,  Sherburne,  not  been  right  any- 
where ? 

He  felt  sore  over  this  new  estimate  of  himself.  He 
was  glad  to  be  sitting  in  a  darkened  corner  of  the  stuffy 
night  train,  he  was  glad  of  the  cool,  fragrant  ride  out 
home  with  only  a  few  stars  and  the  sky  full  of  white 
scudding  drifts.  He  wished  he  could  hide  away  for  a  few 
weeks  until  he  came  to  have  a  good  opinion  of  himself 
once  more.  He  had  not  gone  down  to  the  depths  while 
self-esteem  was  the  great  thing. 

His  mother  met  him  in  the  hall. 

"  O  mamma,  why  did  you  stay  up  to  this  late  hour?  " 
he  cried.     "  Surely " 

"O,  all  is  right  and  well,"  kissing  him  fondly.  "I 
only  wanted  to  be  sure  you  had  come.  Papa  has  missed 
you  so.  O,  I  wonder  if  children  ever  realize  how  dear 
they  are  to  their  parents  ?  ' ' 


3 H  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

He  took  her  in  his  arms.  "  No,  mother,  they  do  not," 
in  a  voice  that  was  unsteady  from  emotion.  "  I  think 
now  they  have  to  live  a  long  while  before  they  can  un- 
derstand all  the  sacredness  of  it.  I  am  only  just  begin- 
ning. But  you  will  see  as  the  years  go  on — God  helping 
me." 

Then  they  both  kissed  amid  tears. 

Sherburne  spent  most  of  the  next  day  in  his  father's 
room.  The  judge  was  promoted  to  sitting  up  in  a  chair 
and  allowed  to  look  out  at  the  magnificent  garniture  of  the 
world,  especially  Sherburne  House.  They  were  to  be 
very  careful  about  draughts,  but  if  he  progressed  favor- 
ably in  another  week  he  might  come  downstairs. 

Sherburne  produced  his  new  budget  of  papers  and  re- 
peated the  pleasant  and  satisfactory  visit  at  the  office. 
They  went  over  the  case  with  a  good  deal  of  zest.  Sher- 
burne entered  curiously  into  the  spirit  of  the  argument  as 
if  he  was  really  fighting  the  case  himself. 

"  He  would  have  made  a  splendid  lawyer,"  his  father 
thought  with  a  sigh. 

Every  day  there  was  some  improvement  now  that  he 
had  started.  He  walked  about  the  room,  then  in  the 
next  apartment  and  out  to  the  schoolroom  where  the 
children  hailed  him  with  joy.  And  then  downstairs  to 
the  noonday  luncheon. 

But  the  illness  had  made  great  ravages  with  him  as  it 
often  does  with  men  at  middle  life.  His  eyes  were  lan- 
guid, the  rosiness  had  gone  out  of  his  face  and  wrinkles 
were  settling  about  his  eyes  and  temples. 

Mr.  Bristow  was  not  a  little   shocked  when  he  came 
down  for  a  final  review  of  the  case. 
Still  the  old  spirit  and  fire  remained. 
"There  were  two  or  three  very  fine  points  in  this, 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  315 

quite    original    and    telling,"    exclaimed    Mr.    Bristow. 
"  You  did  not  lose  your  force  and  freshness,  evidently." 

"Something  of  that  is  due  my  son.  He  has  been  a 
great  help  to  me,"  was  the  satisfied  reply. 

"Well!  well!  A  chip  of  the  old  block!  Judge, 
what  made  you  allow  him  to  stray  off  to  the  dissecting  of 
bones  and  compounding  of  messes,  when  there  were 
fine  opportunities  right  at  hand  ?  We  want  some  strong, 
eager  blood,  and  well  trained  minds  to  meet  the  coming 
momentous  questions  and  to  make  a  stand  in  the  name 
of  justice  and  honor,  and  the  larger  respect  for  one's 
country." 

"I  wish  he  had  chosen  that  way,"  responded  the 
father,  with  a  sigh  of  fresh  disappointment. 

Truth  to  tell,  Sherburne  was  so  interested  in  the  case 
that  he  went  up  to  hear  it  argued.  It  was  the  greed  of 
a  big  corporation  on  one  side,  and  honesty,  truth  and 
humanity  on  the  other.  It  was  a  splendid  and  vivid 
scene,  and  his  pulses  throbbed  now  with  fear,  now  with 
triumph.  He  thought  they  could  have  made  some  points 
stronger.  Why  it  had  the  ring  of  the  battle  fray,  and  he 
longed  to  be  in  the  arena. 

They  had  telegraphed  the  success  of  their  side  to  the 
judge,  but  there  was  so  much  for  Sherburne  to  relate. 
His  eyes  kindled  with  enthusiasm  and  his  voice  had  a 
triumphant  ring  as  if  he  had  been  pleading  himself. 

It  was  a  happy  and  grateful  household.  And  then 
came  a  wave  from  outside  to  make  a  disturbance. 

This  was  a  letter  from  Professor  Kenneth.  Of  course 
through  Judge  Beaumanoir's  illness  it  would  have  been  an 
unwarranted  intrusion  to  present  any  claim,  or  ask  any 
favor,  but  the  lover  with  his  punctilious  sense  of  respect 
due  in  such  a  case,  felt  rather  as  if  he  had  been  indulging 


3i 6  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

in  a  clandestine  correspondence.  More  than  once  he  had 
resolved  to  wait  until  he  could  prefer  his  wishes  in  per- 
son, but  the  letters  had  been  such  a  delight,  and  he  had 
longed  to  hear  of  the  daily  progress  toward  recovery,  so 
he  had  yielded  to  the  seductive  temptation,  but  now  he 
felt  it  imperative.  There  was  an  important  reason  that 
he  could  explain  better  in  conversation  than  by  letter. 

"  Yes,"  commented  Mrs.  Beaumanoir.  And  then 
mother  and  daughter  looked  at  each  other  like  suddenly 
detected  conspirators. 

"Mamma,"  Princess  began,  after  a  little  thought,  "  I 
will  give  him  the  letter  to  read,  and  tell  him  how  it  hap- 
pened. There  will  be  quite  a  long  engagement  of  course, 
and  we  can  have  time  to  get  used  to  the  fact,"  flushing 
and  trying  to  smile. 

"  O  yes,  a  long  engagement,"  said  the  mother.  "  You 
are  so  young." 

"  Nineteen  in  a  few  months." 

"But  you  seem  younger  than  that.  And  somehow  I 
have  had  so  little  of  you." 

"  I  will  stay  at  home  a  year,"  she  promised. 
Judge  Beaumanoir  sat  out  of  doors  under  the  shade  of 
three  great  trees  that  made  a  bower  of  greenery.  He 
had  Aunt  Aurelia's  wheeling  chair  and  could  go  from 
point  to  point  and  have  the  fresh  air  and  some  exercise 
without  tiring  himself.  Sherburne  had  gone  in  to  Ard- 
more  with  some  important  mail,  and  had  promised  to 
lunch  with  Aunt  Fanny  who  never  abrogated  any  rights 
and  privileges. 

"  Papa,"  began  a  sweet  voice  as  Princess  leaned  over 
the  arm  of  his  chair  and  kissed  him,  "here  is  a  letter  for 
you  to  read.  And  then  I  have  a  story  to  tell  you  that — 
that  happened  just  as  you  were  taken  ill." 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  317 

She  did  not  want  to  look  at  him,  so  she  pressed  her 
cheek  close  to  his,  unthinkingly,  but  he  felt  the  soft  color 
come  and  go  with  her  breathing.  Just  such  a  dainty  lit- 
tle thing  her  mother  had  been  when  he  wooed  her.  Yet 
— somehow 

"My  child."  He  drew  her  closer,  but  he  knew  she 
was  given  away  with  her  own  and  her  mother's  consent. 
"Two  lovers  in  one  season.  Are  you  quite  sure,  Prin- 
cess ? ' ' 

"Quite,  papa.  I  liked  Mr.  Sevier  very  much,  and  I 
thought  Professor  Kenneth  loved  some  one  else,  so  I 
tried " 

"And  that  is  not  the  love  a  fine  young  fellow  like  Mr. 
Sevier  deserves." 

"No,  it  is  not,"  earnestly. 

"Your  mother  mentioned  this  admirer  long  ago,  so  it 
doesn't  take  me  quite  by  surprise.  I  suppose  he  will 
have  to  come  and  I  will  have  to  consent.  There  is  no 
fault  to  find  with  his  character,  I  believe.  He  has  some 
independent  means  and  a  good  profession,  but  men  of 
his  acquirements  never  get  rich.  And  he  seems  rather 
grave • 


"But  I  like  the  serious  side.  And  I  like  the  intellec- 
tual poise.  I  should  want  to  be  very  proud  of — "  my 
husband  she  was  going  to  say,  but  paused  from  delicacy, 
"of  the  one  I  chose.  I  should  want  him  to  stand  up 
with  the  best  and  finest,  and  to  feel  sure  that  his  gentle- 
ness did  not  have  a  weak  strand  in  it,  and  that  he  was  a 
seeker  after  the  real  truths.  Some  one  who  would  like  me 
to  keep  step  with  him  and  not  relegate  me  to  childish 
and  frivolous  pursuits." 

"What  an  ambitious  little  body  !  " 

A  happy  undercurrent  of  earnestness  seemed  to  touch 


318  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

her  with  its  lightest  tone  and  diffuse  a  fine  spiritual  grace 
over  her  features.  He  could  understand  the  leaning  to- 
ward the  intellectual  side  and  was  proud  of  it,  but  would 
she  live  any  nobler,  sweeter  life  than  her  mother? 

"  Are  you  not  quite  satisfied,  papa  ?  " 

The  soft  appealing  voice  touched  him,  moved  him  al- 
most to  tears,  and  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  kissing  her 
fervently. 

"  I  shall  be  satisfied  with  your  happiness,  my  darling. 
And  that  we  know  is  not  altogether  dependent  on  money 
or  position  or  the  praise  of  the  world,  but  the  inner  life 
two  people  enjoy  who  are  devoted  to  each  other,  who  do 
not  allow  clouds  of  misunderstanding  to  arise,  and  who 
do  their  whole  duty.  All  the  rest  is  very  pleasant,  but 
it  would  never  make  amends  for  love.  And  when  one 
goes  down  to  the  very  soul  of  things  there  is  nothing  so 
comforting.  I  have  not  outgrown  it  myself.  And  I  am 
sorry  for  the  lover  who  comes  to  be  denied." 

"  I  am  sorry,  too,  papa.  I  sometimes  wonder  if  it  was 
right  to  try — if  it  gave  him  a  hope. ' ' 

"  You  must  not  torment  your  sweet  soul.  Love  is 
quite  independent  of  one's  own  volition,  even  at  times 
when  it  is  most  unwise,  and  demands  a  sacrifice  of 
self.  And  so  I  suppose  we  must  send  for  this  lover 
and  allow  him  to  say  his  say,  and  then  he  will  take  you 
away. ' ' 

"  But  I  am  not  going  in  a  long  time,"  smilingly. 

"  I  couldn't  give  you  up  if  there  were  not  some  more 
girls.     Thank  two  little  sisters  that  I  am  not  selfish." 

"Papa  was  very  good  and  sweet,"  she  said  to  her 
mother  when  she  entered  the  house.  "And  now  I  must 
write  my  letter." 

She  was  extremely  happy   and  busy  and   tender.     It 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  319 

was  such  a  delicious  thing  to  live  and  be  happy,  and 
have  love  on  every  side. 

"Princess,  what  is  the  matter?"  asked  Sherburne,  a 
day  or  two  after.  "  You  seem  just  running  over  with 
something,  and  though  we  are  all  grateful  and  glad  about 
papa,  why  you  should  be  so  much  more  joyous  puzzles 
me." 

Princess*  face  was  scarlet.  O,  had  Sherburne  loved  in 
this  manner  ?  No  wonder  then  that  he  had  felt  hurt  and 
angry,  but  Gertie  had  not  really  promised  to  love  him. 

"You  will  know  to-morrow,  so  perhaps  I  had  better 
make  a  virtue  of  it  and  tell  you  to-day.  Professor  Ken- 
neth is  coming  down,  and " 

"  O  Prin  !  You  don't  mean  —  What  possesses  all  you 
girls  to  fall  in  love  with  old  fellows  !  " 

"He  isn't  so  very  old,"  was  the  sober  reply. 

"Bertram  will  go  wild  with  joy.  You  will  have  to 
share  a  divided  heart.     And — you  love  him?" 

"Of  course,"  rather  gaily;  but  with  bright  color. 

Sherburne  began  to  pace  up  and  down  with  his  hands 
clasped  behind  his  back. 

"Princess,"  he  exclaimed,  suddenly,  "  I  talked  a  lot 
of  bosh  about  Gertrude  Maurice,  didn't  I?  " 

"O — don't  call  it  that!"  she  cried,  in  a  hurt  tone. 
Could  he  so  soon  get  over  even  an  ordinary  affection  ? 
The  briefest  one  seemed  sacred  in  her  eyes. 

"  Yes,  it  was  bosh  !  It  was  worse.  I  begin  to  think 
now  I  acted  like  a  brute  or  a  fiend." 

"And  you  did  not  love  her?  "  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  I  did.  Perhaps  in  the  course  of  my  life  I  shall 
see  some  one  to  love  quite  as  well,  for  after  all,  why 
should  a  fellow  go  mooning  for  years  about  a  woman 
who  did  not  care  for  him.     Yes,  I  think  Gertie  cared  a 


320  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

good  deal  and  we  might  have  been  jolly  good  friends  if 
I  hadn't  taken  up  this  idiotic  notion  !  I  was  half  jealous 
of  all  the  younger  fellows,  but  I  didn't  really  think  of 
Uncle  Con.  I  begin  to  see  that  I  was  a  conceited  fool 
all  the  way  through." 

"  O  Sherburne  !  "  with  tenderest  sympathy. 

"I've  done  a  good  deal  of  sober  thinking  since  I 
came  home.  Princess,  I  do  not  believe  even  you  can 
understand  the  feeling  it  gave  me  when  mother  came  to 
my  arms  that  night,  just  as  if  all  else  was  gone,  and  I 
was  her  sole  dependence.  It  roused  all  the  manliness  in 
me,  and  I  had  been  just  a  pleasure-loving  fellow,  suiting 
himself  and  not  caring  much  how  other  people  liked  it. 
And  the  strain  of  those  days " 

His  voice  had  a  tremble  in  it  and  he  stopped  a  mo- 
ment. Princess  would  have  clasped  her  arms  about 
him,  but  she  was  afraid  they  would  both  cry  over  the  re- 
membered sorrow. 

"  So  I  have  thought  a  good  deal  and  had  several  fights 
with  my  own  vanity  and  folly  and  that  determination  to 
make  everybody  see  through  my  eyes,  even  Gertrude," 
and  he  gave  a  half  forced  laugh.  "  I  have  wanted  to 
mend  a  statement  I  insisted  upon,  but  there  has  not  come 
to  hand  just  the  opportunity.  It  was  not  true  or  fair 
about  her,  and  I  am  heartily  ashamed  that  I  should  have 
done  such  an  unmanly  thing.  She  did  decline  my  pro- 
posal before  Uncle  Con  asked  her — probably  she  has  told 
you  all  this.  I  gathered  a  little  hope  from  one  thing  she 
said — that  she  was  not  counting  on  marriage  for  some 
years  to  come.  And  when  I  found  out  the  engagement 
I  was  furious.  I  didn't  mind  what  I  said.  I  acted  like 
an  idiot,  and  I  guess  I  made  every  one  pretty  uncom- 
fortable.    I  just  wish  I  could  blot  the  whole  thing  out,  I 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  321 

feel  so  mean  and  foolish  about  it.  Gertrude  was  right 
and  sensible,  and  an  engagement  would  have  been  a 
wretched  thing." 

"I  am  glad  you  see  that,"  Princess  said,  in  a  sweet 
tone,  raising  her  eyes  with  a  commendation  still  stronger. 

"  So  I  want  to  ask  your  pardon  for  the  bad  tempers 
and  the  untrue  things  I  said.  I  think  lying  a  mean,  des- 
picable vice,  and  false  accusations  and  all  that,  and  I  am 
heartily  ashamed  of  having  been  betrayed  into  such  un- 
reasonable folly.  I  wanted  to  make  myself  believe  that  I 
was  a  badly  used  and  much  injured  heroic  young  fellow, 
whose  life  and  prospects  were  set  all  astray,  when  I  had 
not  even  taken  hold  of  the  sensible  end  of  life." 

"Uncle  Con  will  be  so  glad.  You  will  tell  him?" 
persuasively. 

Sherburne's  face  was  scarlet. 

"I  do  owe  him  an  apology,  and  when  I  get  enough 
courage,  shall  make  it.  And  I  ought  to  thank  Gertie  for 
her  good  sense.  She  said  I  would  live  to  thank  her,  and 
that  a  man  who  would  throw  himself  away  because  a 
woman  did  not  like  him  was  a  very  poor  sort  of  man. 
He  would  be  an  unmitigated  fool !  I  can't  help  thinking 
that  Gertie  was  charming  and  agreeable  and  bright,  and 
there  was  another  indescribable  quality  that  she  rarely 
used  to  me,  but  when  she  did  I  went  up  to  the  seventh 
heaven.  I  suppose  that  is  fascination.  And  no  matter 
how  much  I  cared,  an  honest  man  has  no  right  to  be 
thinking  or  longing  for  another  man's  wife." 

"O  no,  no  !  " 

"  You  see  I  have  had  a  good  many  hours  in  which  to 
think  these  things  over.  And  papa  has  been  so  good  and 
generous  and  indulgent  that  I  must  consider  how  to  make 
some  return." 


322  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  O  Sherburne  !  "  She  did  clasp  her  arms  about  his 
neck  then  and  kissed  him  with  warm  affection. 

"I  don't  know  but  I  am  a  volatile,  unsteady  fellow 
after  all,  and  I  really  do  want  to  make  the  sort  of  man 
that  wields  an  influence  in  the  world.  I  am  not  sure  that 
medicine  is  my  forte  and  I  think  now  if  father  will  take 
me  into  training,  I  won't  rebel  even  if  it  is  hard.  I  do 
want  to  be  a  man  of  purpose  and  endeavor." 

"  He  will  be  so  glad.     O,  have  you  told  him  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not  yet.  You  see  I  have  taken  up  two 
things  already,  and  I  am  afraid  he  won't  have  real  faith 
in  me.  But  I  am  going  to  write  to  Uncle  Carew  and  ex- 
plain all  to  him.  I  am  ashamed  of  the  past  winter. 
The  only  redeeming  feature  is  that  it  was  foolish  and  not 
really  vicious.  Dear  Princess,  how  I  must  have  tried 
you.     O,  I  hope  you  will  be  very,  very  happy." 

Her  eyes  were  dewy  with  emotion. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  delighted  your  resolve  makes  me. 
I  know  your  decision  was  a  great  disappointment  to  papa. 
And  now  that  he  has  been  spared  to  us  we  must  try  to 
show  him  our  earnest  k>ve  not  only  in  words  but  deeds." 

Princess  was  very  proud  of  her  handsome  brother  just 
then.  She  did  love  peace  and  unity,  and  truth  and  all 
the  higher  virtues,  and  Sherburne  had  caused  her  many 
a  heartache  with  his  unjust  view  of  matters  and  his  un- 
reasonable tempers.  And  she  had  given  thanks  when 
she  remarked  the  fact  of  his  growing  into  accord  with 
papa,  of  his  paying  a  sweet  filial  reverence,  and  no  longer 
indulging  in  cynical  and  faithless  flings. 

He  went  to  the  station  on  Saturday  and  brought  home 
not  only  Princess'  lover,  but  Bertram,  who  coaxed  the 
indulgence  out  of  him  and  was  full  of  enthusiastic  joy 
over  his  father's  recovery. 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  323 

Before  Sunday  evening  the  household  felt  in  the  very 
air  that  Professor  Kenneth  belonged  to  Princess  in  some 
mysterious  manner.  They  sat  out  on  the  wide,  fragrant 
porch  and  watched  the  young  moon  coming  up,  and  he 
had  little  difficulty  in  finding  love's  own  mysterious  lan- 
guage into  which  to  put  sentences  as  he  held  the  dainty 
little  hands.  But  she  was  glad  the  soft  twilight  hid  her 
glowing  cheeks. 

All  day  he  had  hidden  half  his  errand.  But  it  was 
confessed  on  Monday.  He  had  received  a  very  flatter- 
ing proposal  to  be  one  of  the  speakers  at  the  Oxford 
Summer  School,  and  also  to  deliver  a  course  of  five  lec- 
tures before  a  scientific  society  of  note.  He  would  have  to 
go  abroad  immediately  after  commencement,  when  his 
duties  in  the  city  ended.  There  would  be  a  stay  of  a 
month  at  least  in  London,  and  then  time  for  a  little  tour 
on  the  continent.     And  if  he  might  take  Princess  ! 

Of  course  he  had  no  more  idea  of  wedding  finery 
than  he  had  of  building  a  house,  only  people  were  mar- 
ried every  day  and  went  their  way  as  if  it  was  the  sim- 
plest thing  in  the  world.  The  journey  would  be  so  de- 
lightful for  Princess,  and  somehow  she  rather  longed  to 
see  her  husband  acquit  himself  among  the  English 
savants.  Then  the  season  would  be  at  its  height,  and 
after  all  it  was  quite  a  grand  thing  to  see  the  titled  style 
and  quality. 

"But  I  promised  mamma  a  year,"  she  said,  ruefully. 
"  I  thought  it  would  be  a  long  engagement." 

"  But  I  have  loved  you  a  long  while,"  he  said,  in  reply, 
"  and  it  has  had  the  solemnity  of  an  engagement  to  me. 
If  you  could  only  consent ;  ' '  and  there  was  a  wistfulness 
in  his  tone  that  went  to  her  young  heart. 

Doctor  Underwood  had  said  a  sea  voyage  would  do 


324  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

more  for  the  judge  than  anything  else,  and  urged  him  to 
go.  The  Amorys  would  be  abroad,  and  they  had  sug- 
gested Princess  joining  them. 

Grandmamma  Beaumanoir  and  Aunt  Fanny  would 
care  for  the  rest  of  the  children  and  look  after  Sherburne 
House. 

However  nothing  was  positively  decided.  The  little 
mother  must  have  time  to  consider.  And  only  such  a 
few  weeks  intervened  ! 

Judge  Beaumanoir  had  been  very  well  pleased  with 
his  prospective  son-in-law  and  quite  satisfied  with  his  de- 
votion. But  he  had  grown  so  fond  of  his  darling  he 
hated  to  give  her  up. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  long  talk  the  father  and  son  had  a 
few  days  later  that  settled  the  matter.  For  Sherburne 
explained  his  new  resolve  and  begged  that  he  might  be- 
gin again,  this  time  in  truer  earnest,  and  with  a  higher 
mental  resolve. 

"I  am  still  interested  in  medicine  to  a  certain  extent, 
but  surgery  is  distasteful  to  me,"  he  admitted.  "  I  think 
I  have  been  looking  at  Uncle  Carew's  standing  and  fame, 
without  considering  the  steps  necessary  to  reach  it.  And 
then  I  had  a  thought  of  playing  Doctor  Underwood's  role 
down  here,  sometime,  but  he  will  have  a  son  of  his  own 
to  educate  for  the  place,  who  will  be  a  born  surgeon." 

Judge  Beaumanoir  gave  a  satisfied  smile. 

"  Not  all  men  can  reach  Doctor  Carew's  eminence,  even 
if  they  do  an  excellent  work  in  the  world,  and  some  of 
the  most  conscientious  physicians  live  and  die  compara- 
tively unknown.  But  I  think  no  man  could  drop  down, 
or  fail  to  do  his  best  work  with  Aunt  Lyndell  for  a  com- 
panion. And  you  need  not  consider  the  past  winter  al- 
together wasted.     You  have  gained  some  experience  of 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  325 

the  world,  and  if  you  settle  to  the  law  you  will  find  that 
no  knowledge  and  no  training  ever  comes  amiss." 

Sherburne  colored.  The  other  experience  would  re- 
main unconfessed  where  his  parents  were  concerned.  It 
was  a  boy's  foolishness,  and  yet  the  sweetness  of  a 
first  love  lingered.  And  though  he  had  felt  a  little 
affronted  that  Princess  should  consider  it  not  only  un- 
wise but  of  no  great  moment  or  permanency,  he  under- 
stood that  her  own  half-hidden  regard  overwhelmed  it 
when  the  love  was  acknowledged.  He  had  also  heard  it 
whispered  that  his  father  had  once  been  quite  in  love 
with  Aunt  Lyndell,  and  now  they  were  excellent  friends. 
Auntie  Dell  had  loved  some  one  else;  and  surely  his 
father  had  been  very  happy.  So  his  ill-fated  regard  was 
to  remain  a  secret  in  Princess'  heart. 

"  I  suppose  I  am  thinking  of  the  fame,  and  the — the 
admiration,"  confessed  Sherburne,  with  rising  color. 
"  When  I  listened  to  Mr.  Bristow's  brilliant  argument, 
which  after  all  was  largely  yours,  and  at  some  moments  I 
wanted  to  protest,"  half  laughing,  "  I  was  carried  along 
as  if  with  a  swift  current.  Then  when  one  and  another 
said — '  It  was  fine,  but  if  your  father  had  spoken  instead, 
you  would  have  heard  something  remarkable,'  I  couldn't 
help  thinking  that  it  was  a  grand  gift  to  be  able  to  sway 
people  like  that.  I  suppose  I  am  considering  the  attrac- 
tive parts,"  hesitating  and  flushing. 

"It  is  well  to  consider  them.  There  is  a  great  deal  in 
what  is  called  personal  magnetism,  which  is  largely 
having  a  gift  and  finding  the  right  place  in  which  to 
exercise  it.  We  see  men  out  of  place  everywhere.  You 
are  a  fine  speaker,  Sherburne,  and  have  a  presence  that 
will  impress  an  audience.  I  will  admit  that  it  would 
have  been  the  regret  of  my  life  if  you   had  settled  to 


326  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

medicine.     But  there  is  a  good  deal  of  hard  work  before 
you — it  is  not  altogether  a  rose-lined  path." 

"  You  have  taken  many  of  the  brambles  out,  and  I  am 
not  sure  but  in  some  things  the  prestige  of  your  name 
will  tarry  me  along.  1  have  resolved  in  sober  earnest  to 
do  my  best,  and  next  fall  you  will  have  a  resolute 
student." 

It  was  true  Sherburne's  heart  had  been  fired  with  un- 
wonted zeal.  More  than  one  of  his  father's  friends  had 
spoken  of  the  hope  of  seeing  him  follow  in  the  same 
steps. 

"I  am  more  fully  satisfied  than  you  can  realize  now, 
Sherburne,"  returned  his  father,  leaning  back  with  a 
smile  of  infinite  gratification.  "I  did  hate  to  think  of 
the  structure  I  had  reared  going  into  other  hands,  or  drop- 
ping out  altogether,  for  Bertram  will  have  no  gift  for 
this  profession.  And  I  realize  suddenly  that  I  am  no 
longer  in  the  heyday  of  youth,"  smiling  rather  regret- 
fully ;  "I  shall  be  glad  to  have  a  strong  young  staff  to 
lean  upon,  when  I  begin  to  turn  on  the  other  side  of  the 
path  where  the  shadows  lengthen." 

Sherburne  came  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  father's 
shoulder.  He  had  adored  him  before,  of  course,  and 
been  very  proud  of  him,  his  soul  had  been  full  of  pas- 
sionate regret  when  he  had  seen  him  lying  in  death's 
doorway,  but  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  never  truly  loved 
him  until  this  moment.  And  the  boy's  resolve  to  be  a 
dearer,  tenderer  son  thrilled  every  pulse  within  his  soul. 

"  There  is  another  point  that  it  is  well  to  begin  with," 
continued  the  judge,  with  grave  sweetness.  "  Many 
men  are  wrecked  on  the  rock  of  expediency.  We  look 
at  the  world  and  see  wrong  prospering  everywhere,  we 
think,  and  the  tender  gracious  sacrificing  souls  pushed  to 


THE  LAMP  OF  REASON.  327 

the  wall.  So  we  resolve  upon  winning  success  by  any 
means.  I  thought  this  way  when  my  ambition  was  first 
roused,  and  I  was  older  than  you  when  I  began  to  look 
at  life  seriously.  But  I  have  learned  much  since,  and  I 
hope  now  to  go  on  learning  all  my  life.  There  is  nothing 
like  truth  and  integrity  for  the  corner-stones  of  life. 
When  you  stand  firmly  by  them  the  real  fineness  of 
human  nature  comes  out  and  the  world  begins  to  respect 
you  for  the  better  qualities,  and  does  not  offer  you  its 
dirty  work.  You  find  the  true  nobleness  and  higher  ap- 
preciation of  the  world.  Your  fellow-men  trust  you, 
even  those  who  are  continually  studying  how  to  cheat  and 
deceive,  and  steal,  for  all  money  unjustly  taken  is  steal- 
ing. We  cannot  right  all  the  wrongs  in  this  world,  but 
we  can  refrain  from  doing  what  we  ourselves  know  and 
recognize  as  a  glaring  wrong." 

"  You  shall  be  my  teacher  and  mentor,"  the  young 
fellow  replied,  with  a  dewiness  in  his  eyes  and  an  un- 
wonted touch  of  emotion  in  his  voice. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE     HIGH    RESOLVES   OF   YOUTH. 

PRINCESS  BEAUMANOIR  found  herself  suddenly 
A  the  centre  of  interest  and  attraction.  Aunt  Violet 
came  down  with  the  two  girls  for  a  little  respite  from 
gayety  and  a  rest,  and  to  explain  her  plans  to  grand- 
mamma, and  found  Tessy  in  the  midst  of  great  per- 
plexity. Princess  could  hardly  decide  whether  she 
wanted  to  be  married  so  soon  or  not.  When  a  letter 
came  from  her  lover  she  was  willing  to  go  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth  with  him,  and  when  she  considered  all  that 
marriage  meant,  the  beginning  of  a  separate  and  lifelong 
interest,  the  solemnity  awed  her  and  she  clung  to  her 
mother. 

"We  might  all  go  abroad  together,"  said  the  fond 
mother,  "  and  have  a  happy  summer,  and  if  you  like,  the 
marriage  could  take  place  in  the  autumn.  When  Sher- 
burne is  twenty-one  there  is  to  be  a  gathering  of  the 
Clans,"  and  the  happy  light  illumined  her  face. 

Was  it  possible  that  in  a  little  more  than  three  years 
they  would  have  been  married  a  quarter  of  a  century  ? 
She  was  round  and  rosy  and  youthful  in  figure  and  bear- 
ing, but  there  were  some  fine  traces  of  the  finger  marks 
of  time  in  the  happy  face.  And  Leonard  seemed  to 
have  aged  suddenly  during  his  illness.  But  when  one 
saw  this  growing  flock  of  girls  and  boys,  three  of  whom 
were  taking  their  own  try  at  the  world,  one  had  to 
admit  the  years 

328 


THE  HIGH  RESOLVES  OF   YOUTH.         329 

"  I  really  think  I  should  have  ihe  marriage,"  decided 
Aunt  Violet.  "  You  see  Leonard,  you  won't  want  to 
spend  a  month  or  so  in  the  heat  and  turmoil  of  London, 
and  Princess  will  want  to  see  and  hear  everything  con- 
nected with  her  lover.  It  isn't  as  if  he  was  a  recent  ac- 
quaintance, but  it  is  almost  two  years  since  we  met  him, 
and  it  seems  now  that  he  has  had  his  eye  on  Princess,  and 
been  waiting  for  her  to  unfold  into  womanhood.  Then 
the  Carews  have  known  about  the  Kenneths  for  years. 
And  since  he  is  Princess'  choice — though  I  can't  see  why 
Mr.  Sevier  was  not  the  favored  one." 

"I  can  see,"  answered  her  brother,  with  an  amused 
but  rather  protesting  expression.  "Still  it  seems  to  me 
Mr.  Sevier  is  more  to  a  young  girl's  fancy.  But  Princess 
is  a  little  different  from  most  girls.  I  don't  think  we 
have  ever  given  the  midget  due  credit  for  all  her  ambi- 
tion." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  was  at  the  bottom  of  her  college 
enthusiasm?  Yet  she  gave  it  up,"  and  Violet  looked 
puzzled. 

"  Her  mother  persuaded  her  out  of  it.  College  is  a 
necessity  for  the  women  going  into  professions  who  must 
measure  their  knowledge  with  their  brothers  striving  for 
the  same  place.  We  are  still  old-fashioned  enough  to  be- 
lieve in  wives  and  mothers.  But  Princess  will  be  hap- 
pier with  a  man  who  is  reaching  up  to  new  heights.  She 
is  like  her  mother,  she  must  be  ambitious  for  some  one. 
And  when  the  professor  comes  out  of  his  seclusion,  he  is 
quite  a  charming  man.  She  can  always  be  proud  of  him 
and  I  think  she  need  not  be  afraid  of  '  fads '  running 
away  with  his  good  sense.  Then  he  has  a  firm  belief  in 
the  Creator  of  all.  One  feels  safer  in  giving  his  daughter 
into  such  hands." 


33o  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Judge  Beaumanoir's  voice  unconsciously  took  on  a 
reverent  tone. 

"It  is  the  tribute  we  pay  to  the  true  coin,"  he  added. 
"  And  people  try  to  imitate  it  as  nearly  as  possibly  while 
they  endeavor  to  deny  the  real  value,  and  cry  out  that 
the  other  is  just  as  good.  But  they  know  better,  and 
keep  rubbing  up  the  sham  to  make  it  more  nearly  agree." 

Violet  thought  of  her  own  young  life,  of  all  their  lives. 
Had  they  been  more  strenuous  ? 

"There  are  curious  changes  going  on  in  the  world  all 
the  time,"  she  said,  retrospectively. 

"Yes."  He  gave  a  soft  little  laugh.  "And  I  think 
I  demand  more  of  my  boy  than  my  father  demanded  of 
me.  What  a  lazy  self-loving  cub  I  was  !  But  I  have 
spent  twenty  years  in  the  midst  of  earnest  endeavor. 
Have  I  told  you  that  Sherburne  has  decided  to  take  up 
law  ? ' ' 

"O  Leonard.  That  is  splendid!  And  such  a  con- 
nection as  he  can  step  into  !  Then  he  will  make  a  fine 
pleader." 

"If  he  doesn't  get  spoiled  by  admiration  !  But  there 
are  a  good  many  smart  people  in  the  world,  and  every 
one  who  succeeds  has  to  make  an  effort.  I  can't  tell  you 
how  glad  I  am  to  have  him  come  back  to  me.  I  think  I 
was  pretty  jealous  of  Bert  Carew.  And  here  is  my  own 
Bertram  adoring  Professor  Kenneth  as  the  greatest  man 
in  the  world." 

There  was  an  expression  of  amused  complaint  in  his 
face. 

"  Poor  Leonard  !  "  she  said,  with  mock  sympathy.  "  I 
feel  resigned  to  the  trial  of  a  rather  self-loving  beauty. 
But  this  is  wandering  from  the  subject.  Marry  off  the 
young  people.     Then  come  with  us  and  in  some  quiet 


THE  HIGH  RESOLVES   OF   YOUTH.         331 

German  bathing  town  renew  your  health  and  youth. 
Tessy  and  I  will  pull  out  the  white  hairs  that  are  begin- 
ning to  sprinkle  your  temples." 

"  Indeed  I  shall  cultivate  them  as  indications  of  exper- 
ience and  wisdom.  Your  plan  has  a  good  deal  to  rec- 
ommend it,  however." 

Sherburne  endorsed  it  heartily.  He  was  pretty  busy 
attending  to  numerous  duties  for  his  father,  who  some- 
how did  not  seem  to  get  back  his  old  robustness. 

"  I  think  you  can  trust  me  to  be  head  of  the  family 
awhile,"  he  said.  "I  will  send  for  Ned  Beaumanoir 
who  has  studied  himself  to  a  shadow  and  means  to  take 
one  of  the  big  prizes.  And  we  can  ask  some  of  the  other 
cousins,  while  Aunt  Fanny  can  boss  us  all." 

When  Judge  Beaumanoir  went  up  to  Washington  and 
returned  pale  and  fatigued,  he  at  once  acquiesced  in  the 
plan  of  going  abroad.  And  the  marriage  seemed  to  get 
settled  of  itself. 

"So  far  as  clothes  go,"  said  Aunt  Violet,  "Princess 
can  have  a  wedding  gown  and  a  traveling  dress.  The 
rest  she  can  buy  abroad,  or  after  she  comes  home  in  the 
autumn." 

Mrs.  Kenneth  had  meant  to  visit  Washington  and  be 
in  the  midst  of  the  girls,  but  there  had  been  so  much  go- 
ing on  all  the  time.  Now  she  was  invited  to  Sherburne 
House  for  a  good  long  visit,  and  would  remain  until  the 
weather  became  altogether  too  warm. 

Bertram  was  delighted  with  the  prospect  as  well  as  the 
fact  that  the  professor  was  really  to  belong  to  them,  and 
that  after  he  had  graduated  they  would  spend  a  solid 
year  abroad,  for  he  considered  his  claims  almost  as  good 
as  those  of  Princess. 

Sherburne  had  written  a  very  manly  letter  to  Doctor 


332  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Carew,  and  received  a  most  cordial  reply.  Uncle  Bert 
entirely  approved  of  the  change. 

"  Not  but  what  you  could  make  a  good  physician  if  you 
had  set  about  it  in  earnest,"  he  said,  "but  I  think  there 
is  a  wider  scope  for  your  talents  in  the  law.  And  you  will 
have  the  best  of  training  under  your  father's  careful  eye. 
We  shall  watch  your  career  with  as  much  pride  as  if  we 
were  to  have  a  hand  in  moulding  it.  And  whatever  else 
you  may  attain  to  there  will  never  be  any  pleasure  so 
sweet  in  your  later  years  as  the  knowledge  that  you  have 
been  a  good  and  noble  son  to  your  father." 

Many  a  time  Sherburne  had  resolved  to  write  to  Uncle 
Con.  Then  he  thought  he  would  go  up  to  the  city,  but 
he  really  shrank  from  a  meeting.  Now  that  he  had  come 
to  his  senses  a  little  he  saw  how  utterly  foolish  he  had 
been,  and  worse  still  in  his  unfounded  accusations  against 
Gertrude.  He  wrote  letters  and  tore  them  up.  Some 
were  too  justifying,  some  too  boyish.  And  at  last  he  sim- 
ply said  : 

"Dear  Uncle  Con  : 

"  Will  you  trust  me  for  all  explanations  and  apol- 
ogies until  we  meet. 

"  Sheriiurne." 

"There!"  exclaimed  Uncle  Con,  laughingly,  as  he 
held  the  note  before  Gertrude,  "  the  lad  has  come  to  his 
senses.  That  is  better  than  pages  of  balderdash.  And 
his  going  in  his  father's  office  is  the  most  judicious  step 
he  can  take.     We  shall  be  proud  of  the  boy  some  day." 

"He  would  make  a  charming  doctor.  Silly  women 
would  run  crazy  after  him,  and  conjure  up  all  manner  of 
pains  and  aches.     And  rich  women  would  want  him  at 


THE  HIGH  RESOLVES   OF   YOUTH.         333 

their  elbow.  He  could  make  no  end  of  money,  but  it 
would  not  be  a  very  ennobling  life,"  returned  Gertrude. 

"  And  there  are  still  silly  women  left  ?  "  There  was  a 
mischievous  glint  in  Con  Murray's  eye. 

"  There  will  be  until  the  end  of  time,  since  there  are 
men  to  admire  them,"  she  retorted. 

"And  to  think  our  little  Princess  is  going  to  marry  the 
wise  and  learned  doctor  of  Padua,  and  that  I  have  lost 
her  completely.  Perhaps  she  will  accept  a  night's  shelter 
under  our  hospitable  roof  when  she  returns  as  Mrs.  Ken- 
neth." 

The  Murrays  had  set  up  housekeeping  and  given  a  re- 
ception. It  was  thronged,  though  people  were  hurrying 
out  of  the  city.  More  than  one  woman  wondered  "  how 
she  had  captured  Con  Murray,"  and  if  Mrs.  Townsend 
had  not  made  the  match.  Gertrude  was  gracious,  agree- 
able, and  had  an  undeniable  charm,  though  no  one  could 
tell  exactly  what  it  was.  And  she  found  the  home  at- 
mosphere quite  pungent  and  spicy  at  times,  but  she  was 
equal  to  it.  The  years  of  bachelorhood  had  expanded 
and  intensified  traits  that  never  get  firmly  rooted  in  the 
gardens  of  youth. 

Princess  was  simply  overwhelmed  with  letters  when  the 
fact  of  the  coming  marriage  was  known.  Sherburne  in- 
sisted that  she  stood  in  need  of  a  private  secretary  to  an- 
swer them  all,  and  to  acknowledge  wedding  gifts  that 
were  already  being  sent  in.  It  surprised  her  to  see  the 
interest  every  one  took  in  what  she  had  meant  to  have  a 
very  simple  affair.  It  would  be  in  the  old  church,  of 
course,  with  all  the  relatives  around,  and  the  little  girls 
who  had  grown  up  to  womanhood  since  Cousin  Nora 
was  married.  Other  little  girls  who  were  babies  then, 
and  who  would  one  day  have  lovers  and  then  husbands. 


334  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Aunt  Julia  and  Ray  were  the  first  guests.  Aunt  Julia 
was  very  feeble  now,  and  the  indications  were  that  Mrs. 
Beaumanoir  who  was  the  oldest  of  the  Sherburne  sisters 
would  be  the  last  one  of  her  family  and  generation. 

"  It  gives  one  a  solemn  thought,"  Judge  Beaumanoir 
said  to  his  wife,  "  to  see  the  passing  of  families.  I  can 
remember  so  well  my  own  grandfather  being  here  and 
Great-aunt  Aurelia,  and  all  the  own  aunts  and  uncles. 
Sherburne  House  seems  to  gather  all  the  family  histories 
in  its  bosom.  And  presently  my  darling,  we  shall  be  old 
folks,  with  our  children  married  off.  Six  weddings. 
Think  of  it!  " 

"Some  one  will  have  to  provide  for  three  of  them," 
she  returned  with  a  smile.  "And  we  shall  not  mind 
growing  old  when  we  have  two  such  lovely  examples  as 
your  parents  and  mine." 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her  and  recalled  the  first  time 
her  mother  and  father  came  to  Sherburne  House. 

There  were  lovely  days  for  Princess  and  her  mother, 
since  they  had  taken  Aunt  Violet's  advice  about  wed- 
ding gear,  and  Uncle  Con  had  sent  her  a  lovely  wedding 
gown  of  beautiful  lace  to  be  worn  over  silk.  The  mar- 
riage could  not  take  place  until  mid-June,  on  account  of 
the  commencements.  But  passages  were  engaged  and 
all  things  made  ready.  Ned  Beaumanoir  had  gladly  ac- 
cepted his  cousin's  invitation  to  come  and  "  keep  house." 

Then  Mrs.  Kenneth  and  Ruth  Ensign  arrived.  They 
had  traveled  carefully,  though  Mrs.  Kenneth  had  im- 
proved through  the  winter.  She  sometimes  did,  and 
then  dropped  back  again.  But  she  had  been  very  tran- 
quil in  her  mind  over  her  daughter's  happiness,  and 
taken  a  warm  interest  in  her  brother-in-law's  hopes. 

"It  will  be   quite  an  ideal  marriage,  as  you  will  see," 


THE  HIGH  RESOLVES  OF   YOUTH.        335 

she  said  to  Tessy.  "  They  have  so  many  tastes  and  beliefs 
alike,  and  he  has  such  a  world  of  undeveloped  tender- 
ness. The  most  fortunate  step  of  his  whole  life  was  go- 
ing to  Melchias,  though  he  and  Mr.  Murray  had  been 
friends  for  years." 

Princess  became  quite  accustomed  to  hearing  the  mar- 
riage discussed,  though  it  sometimes  seemed  as  if  the  in- 
terested person  must  be  some  other  than  herself.  And  if 
there  had  been  a  lingering  suspicion  about  Ruth  it  was 
quite  set  at  rest  now.  She  took  the  warmest  satisfaction 
in  the  marriage,  and  she  repeated  so  many  bits  of  talk  in 

this  fashion 

"  One  night  when  we  were  sitting  round  the  fire  the 
professor  exclaimed,  '  O,  do  you  remember  our  climb  up 
Robin's  Point,  when  Miss  Princess  said  this  or  that, 
or  our  walk  on  the  rocky  shore  when  Miss  Princess  re- 
peated this  bit  of  verse  ? '  I  think  he  never  forgot  any- 
thing you  said  or  did.  It  was  like  a  picture  in  his  mind. 
I  felt  sure  by  that  it  must  be  love.  And  Princess,  dear, 
what  a  sweet  thing  it  is  to  be  loved  so  well." 
It  was  doubly  sweet  to  hear  this. 
Ray  was  very  tender  and  affectionate  also,  though  she 
admitted  she  was  surprised  at  first. 

In  the  city  there  were  thousands  of  hopes  and  fears, 
loves  and  heartbreaks,  ambitions  and  disappointments. 
The  professor  went  his  way  with  outward  quiet,  attended 
his  classes,  made  plans  for  the  coming  year,  advised, 
consoled,  examined,  and  made  time  every  evening  to 
write  to  his  betrothed.  Deeply  as  he  was  engrossed  he 
did  not  forget  for  a  moment  the  sunshine  that  was  to 
bless  his  life,  the  heart  that  was  to  beat  in  unison  with 
his.  "His  little  girl,"  he  often  said,  and  he  was  glad 
she  was  small  and  dainty  and  fine.     Not  for  a  world 


336  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

would  he  have  her  changed  in  any  particular.  And  he 
often  wondered  how  he  had  dared  to  choose  her,  how  out 
of  the  world  of  attractive  men  she  had  preferred  him. 

That  is  the  mystery  of  love,  never  to  be  explained  or 
unfolded.  The  soul  that  quickens  and  kindles,  and 
awakes  a  depth  one  hardly  dreamed  of  possessing,  and 
draws  one  hitherward  until  there  is  the  delicious  fusion  of 
soul  and  spirit — and  life  is  pervaded  with  a  heavenly 
satisfaction — can  one  weigh  and  apportion  a  part  to  each  ? 

Bertram's  first  year  in  college  had  been  a  success. 
There  were  some  trials  and  irritations,  some  failures  and 
amendments,  but  the  examinations  were  passed  success- 
fully, and  he  was  now  a  triumphant  sophomore. 

"  1  shall  not  stay  for  all  the  rest,"  he  said,  eagerly,  to 
his  uncle.  "I'm  just  wild  to  see  papa,  as  he  is  going 
away  so  soon.     And  Princess  and  all  of  them." 

So  he  packed  his  trunk  for  a  good,  long  vacation  and 
no  end  of  fun. 

"Though  I  do  hope  Sher  won't  turn  cross  and  nasty, 
and  boss  us  all  about.  Think  how  funny  it  will  be  for 
him  and  Cousin  Ned  to  be  the  grand  high  dukes  !  " 

But  that  very  evening  Cousin  Ned  came  in,  large-eyed, 
thin  and  triumphant. 

"  Wish  me  joy  !  My  paper  takes  the  first  prize,  three 
hundred  dollars.  And  my  degree  is  sure.  You  must 
come,  Uncle  Carew  and  Auntie  Dell,  and  see  me  acquit 
myself.  And  I've  earned  enough  to  carry  me  through 
without  asking  father  for  a  penny." 

"A  fine  record,  my  boy,"  said  Doctor  Carew,  heartily. 
He  was  thinking,  too,  of  his  own  boy  and  wondering  a 
little — he  had  set  his  heart  on  a  plan  for  him,  but  occa- 
sionally there  had  been  a  fear.  He  was  a  good  student, 
a  fine  athlete,  an  enthusiastic  lad  about  games  and  sports. 


THE  HIGH  RESOLVES  OF   YOUTH.        337 

In  his  boyhood  he  had  been  extremely  proud  of  his 
father's  profession  and  quite  resolved  to  follow  it.  Lat- 
terly he  seldom  referred  to  it,  indeed  the  last  year  when 
the  boys  talked  over  their  plans  he  never  announced  his, 
if  he  had  any.  But  that  he  was  studying  resolutely  for 
something,  his  father  well  understood. 

There  had  been  a  good  deal  of  excitement  about  the 
wedding,  the  close  of  school,  the  visit  at  Sherburne 
House,  and  the  winding  up  of  various  benevolent 
works,  as  well  as  the  summer  charities  and  plans  for 
vacation. 

"  The  children  have  been  invited  to  remain  at  Sherburne 
House  as  long  as  they  like,"  said  Lyndell.  "  Randolph 
proposes  to  stay  all  summer  with  the  boys,  so  he  is  pro- 
vided for.  Millicent  must  have  seaside.  O  dear,  every 
year  grows  busier  !  What  a  responsibility  was  taken  off 
of  us  when  Sherburne  settled  his  future.  And  Bertram 
will  be  in  the  professor's  care  next  year.  We  shall  be 
quite  by  ourselves." 

"We  ought  to  be  thankful  they  have  all  fared  so  well. 
Really  they  are  a  set  of  young  people  to  be  proud  of," 
the  Doctor  smiled  cordially. 

"  I  wonder  if  Randolph  will  try  to  enter  college.  He 
is  so  reticent  about  his  own  plans." 

"  He  doesn't  mean  to  this  year,  I  know." 

"  He  is  quite  young — I  think  he  had  better  wait." 

"  He  has  no  intention.  Another  year  at  the  institute 
will  do  him  no  harm."  But  the  crease  in  the  doctor's 
brow  deepened.  He  thought  sometimes  he  had  been  too 
busy  with  other  people's  lives  to  give  the  proper  interest 
to  his  own  children,  since  they  were  healthy  and  happy, 
and  surrounded  by  love  and  comfort. 

Prodigies  were  not  at  all  to  his  liking.     He  had  re- 


338  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

solved  that  nerves  and  intellect,  physical  speculation  and 
training  should  be  left  to  a  later  period.  There  had 
sometimes  been  over-indulgence  on  the  part  of  his  father 
and  Aunt  Neale,  he  thought,  but  this  was  a  hard  matter 
to  restrict,  so  he  had  let  it  go  with  a  smile. 

It  was  quite  late  when  Randolph  came  in  from  his  boy 
friend's.  They  talked  about  Ned's  prize  at  which  he  was 
delighted. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  would  like  to  go  to  Sherburne  with 
Bertram  to-morrow?"  his  mother  asked.  "He  is 
through  and  so  are  you." 

"No,  not  to-morrow.  And  I  would  like  to  hear 
Cousin  Ned.     When  do  you  go?  " 

"Just  in  time  for  the  wedding,  with  all  my  caravan," 
and  a  laugh  shone  in  the  mother's  eyes.  "  Princess  is  as 
exigent  as  Nora  was.  Every  girl  cousin  must  be  gowned 
in  white.     What  a  pretty  sight  it  will  be." 

"  Yes,  quite  worth  seeing.  It  is  funny  to  think  of 
Princess  marrying  Professor  Kenneth.  Then  it  will  be 
next  week." 

Lyndell  nodded.  She  was  studying  the  big  boy  from 
top  to  toe.  His  curly,  bright  brown  hair,  his  fair  face 
somewhat  sunburned,  his  merry  eyes  not  as  soft  as  hers 
were  now,  not  indeed  "velvet  eyes"  as  Millicent  had 
called  them,  but  full  of  fire  and  spirit  as  well  as  fun  ;  a 
very  respectable  nose  and  a  rather  firm  mouth  and  chin. 
Not  the  Beaumanoir  beauty  to  be  sure,  hardly  beauty  at 
all  at  sixteen,  but  honest  and  upright  and  fearless.  A 
fine  frame,  filled  out  rather  more  than  one  might  expect 
at  that  age,  but  Randolph  had  never  been  "spindling." 
How  tall  he  was — quite  overtopping  Bertram. 

"Well,  mamma,"  with  a  rather  embarrassed  laugh, 
"is  there  something  unusual  about  me?" 


THE  HIGH  RESOLVES  OF   YOUTH.        339 

"Except  that  you  grow  every  moment.  What  a  tall 
fellow  you  are  !  " 

"But  the  Carews  grow  up  quickly,  Aunt  Neale  says," 
was  the  boy's  reply. 

"And  some  day  we  shall  have  you  bringing  home 
prizes,  I  hope,"  said  his  mother.  "I  can't  have  my 
children  distanced." 

He  colored,  and  made  as  if  he  would  speak,  but  did 
not.     Dell  remarked  it. 

"You  must  go  to  bed.  We  must  all  go,"  exclaimed 
his  father.  "But,  my  son,  I  do  not  like  to  have  you 
staying  out  so  late  as  this." 

"We  were  talking  of  something  that   interested   me 
very  much,  and  I  did  not  notice  the  time.     But  it  was  set- 
tled as  far  as  it  could  be  and  won't  be  talked  over  again." 
"Is  it   a   secret?"  asked   his   mother,   as   she  rose. 
"  Boys  have  secrets  as  well  as  girls." 

Randolph  came  and  put  his  hand  over  his  father's 
shoulder,  but  he  was  looking  at  his  mother,  and  an  odd 
flush  wavered  over  his  face. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  say  anything  just  yet,  because  it  is 
so  uncertain,  but  I  think  I  ought  not  go  on  keeping  it  to 

myself,  though  I  am  afraid ' ' 

"Is  it  any  trouble  ?  "  asked  his  father,  quickly,  in  the 
pause. 

"It's  a  wish,  my  wish,  but  I  know  it  is  not  what  you 
have  planned  for  me.  I  am  beginning  to  think  I  could 
not  agree  to  that  unless  you  insisted,  and  it  doesn't  seem 
as  if  any  one  ought  to  take  up  a  profession  half-heart- 
edly." 

"I  shall  not  insist,"  returned  his  father,  gravely. 
"What  is  your  preference?" 

"  I  have  another  year  at  school,  I  know.     I  should 


34Q  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

not  be  old   enough   until   then.      I  want   to  go  to  West 
Point  afterward." 

"O    Randolph!"  his   mother   said,   almost   sharply. 

"  That  may  be  only  a  boy's  fancy.  Boys  change  their 
minds.  And  there  are  some  other  things.  It  is  a  gov- 
ernment appointment  after  you  have  passed  your  ex- 
amination." 

"Yes,  that  is  what  we  were  talking  about  to-night. 
Philip  Weston's  uncle  will  have  a  voice  in  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  candidate  next  year.  He  wanted  Phil  to 
try  for  it,  but  Phil  isn't  a  bit  soldierly.  And  I  should 
like  it  so  !  Pve  been  studying  up  a  good  deal.  And  if 
I  wasn't  a  soldier  I  should  want  to  take  up  engineering. 
I  want  a  broad,  active,  out-of-doors  life." 

He  looked  fine  and  spirited  as  he  said  this.  Then  as 
no  one  answered  at  once,  he  continued 

"  I  know  grandpapa  will  feel  disappointed.  He  has 
destined  me  for  papa's  footsteps,  and  if  I  did  not  come 
up  to  your  standard  I  should  always  feel  sorry  and  mor- 
tified. I  know  I  can't.  It  isn't  in  me.  And  it  really 
wasn't  in  Cousin  Sherburne,  you  see,  although  he  thought 
he  liked  it  at  first.  One  ought  to  put  one's  whole  soul  in 
whatever  one  elects.  And  the  reason  I  can  read  Homer 
so  well  is  because  the  fighting  and  the  splendid  courage 
in  it  stirs  every  pulse  of  me.  And  Cicero  doesn't  inter- 
est me  half  as  much." 

"  There  is  a  good  deal  of  other  fighting  in  the  world," 
said  his  mother.  "  And  a  great  deal  of  bravery  needed, 
and  resolve  and  high  purpose." 

"  But  the  kind  you  like  appeals  the  most  strongly  to 
you,"  replied  the  boy,  his  eyes  alight  with  eager  pur- 
pose. 

"See  how  late  it  is,"  subjoined  his  father.     "There 


THE  HIGH  RESOLVES  OF   YOUTH.         341 

will  be  time  to  have  a  good  many  talks  about  this  in  a 
year,  so  we  needn't  decide  to-night." 

"  But  I'm  glad  to  have  you  know  what  I  am  thinking 
about,  and  what  I  would  rather  do." 

No  one  answered  and  he  bent  over  and  kissed  his 
father  good-night.     He  had  not  grown  too  old  for  that. 

When  he  was  gone  Lyndell  went  over  to  her  husband 
and  seating  herself  on  the  broad  arm  of  the  chair 
leaned  her  head  down  on  his  shoulder. 

"It's  something  of  a  bombshell  in  our  domestic  tent," 
he  began,  with  a  touch  of  amusement,  rather  more  indeed 
than  he  felt. 

"O  Bertram!  you  will  never  consent.  It  is  a  boy's 
whim,"  she  said  in  a  tone  of  disapproval. 

"  If  it  is  a  boy's  whim  it  will  die  out.  I  am  not  so 
much  surprised  after  all.  For  the  last  year  he  has  not 
mentioned  medicine  of  his  own  accord.  I  confess  it  has 
been  a  favorite  dream  of  mine.  And  then  his  being 
named  after  father ' ' 

"After  both  of  you,"  she  amended. 

"  Well,  father  has  set  his  heart  on  it  the  most  strongly. 
And  he  is  an  old  man  with  not  a  great  many  new  hopes 
now.  Yes,  I  am  sorry.  But  a  dozen  things  can  hap- 
pen. He  is  very  young  and  may  not  pass.  Then  after 
his  four  years'  training  he  may  not  get  an  appointment 
in  these  piping  times  of  peace.  It  is  not  as  certain  as 
the  navy.     We  will  not  distress  ourselves  just  yet." 

"  And  think  of  Harry  Lepage,  with  all  his  honors  and 
promotions,  roaming  about  the  world  homeless,  wifeless, 
childless." 

"  Sailing,  you  mean."  He  kissed  the  mother  of  Ran- 
dolph Carew  in  a  comforting  fashion.  "  Naval  officers 
do  have  wives  and  children  if  they  so  elect.     And  the 


342  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

military  training  at  its  best  is  excellent.  There  is  self- 
imposed  discipline,  implicit  obedience,  endurance,  regu- 
lar work " 

"And  temptation — gambling  and  drunkenness,"  she 
exclaimed  with  strong  abhorrence. 

"  Which  we  find  here  in  our  city,  among  rich  and 
poor.  Then,  my  dear,  you  forget  about  Major  Stan- 
wood,  a  noble  gentleman,  and  Archie.  I  think  the  very 
discipline  and  self-denial  enabled  him  to  bear  his  troubles 
with  a  braver  front  and  more  excellent  wisdom.  What  I 
should  regret  are  the  few  chances  for  promotion,  the  in- 
dolent life  out  on  the  frontier  which  must  kill  ambition." 

"  I  can  never  consent.  O,  the  little  children  !  How 
I  have  enjoyed  them.  Will  ever  any  time  be  so  happy 
again  when  they  begin  to  go  out  of  the  old  home?" 

"When  they  are  married  and  gone  to  new  interests, 
and  we  are  but  secondary  in  their  lives.  When  business 
opportunities  call  them  away, — when  we  are  left  together, 
as  we  began  life  years  ago,  my  darling.  And  if  God 
should  spare  us  to  each  other  shall  we  not  rejoice  in 
duties  well  done  and  give  thanks  for  blessed  years?" 

"You  are  so  large  in  your  thoughts,  Bertram;  you 
see  so  many  things —  "  her  voice  broke  and  she  put  her 
face  close  down  by  his,  wet  with  some  tears.  Yes,  he 
was  the  lover  of  her  youth,  and  they  could  not  be  young 
always.     And  children  had  individualities  of  their  own. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  BROAD,  BRIGHT  SPACE. 

THERE  had  been  many  happy  reunions  at  Sherburne 
House  as  is  the  case  frequently  with  large  families 
with  hospitable  impulses  and  affectionate  regard.  There 
was  always  a  good  time.  Judge  Beaumanoir's  business 
friends  were  most  enthusiastic  about  the  home  delights 
without  the  formalisms  of  society,  and  yet  with  charming 
refinement. 

But  on  grand  occasions  the  borders  widened  out  and 
took  them  all  in.  These  were  mostly  weddings  and  some 
notable  birthdays.  But  now  it  seemed  as  if  half  the 
county  insisted  upon  an  interest.  Nora  Von  Lindorm's 
marriage  was  still  talked  about  as  if  no  one  could  get 
used  to  the  idea  of  "  Miss  Milly  "  having  a  daughter  old 
enough  to  be  married.  And  now  little  Princess  Beauman- 
oir  ! 

The  house  was  like  a  hotel  for  guests,  as  all  the  chil- 
dren were  bidden. 

"  We  should  be  excellent  to  go  out  and  settle  new 
countries,"  said  Lyndell,  with  a  bright  smile,  as  she 
ranged  her  five  in  a  row,  more  startled  than  ever  at  their 
rapid  increase  in  size. 

Violet  Amory  put  her  arm  about  Lyndell,  and  the 
girlish  movement  took  her  back  years. 

"  O,  do  you  remember  the  first  evening  you  came  here, 
Dell?"  in  a  voice  of  impulsive  retrospect.  "It  seems 
strange  to  think  of  you  as  a  little  girl,  and  of  the  in- 

343 


344  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

fluencc  you  have  had  on  all  our  lives.  How  far-reaching 
both  good  and  evil  are  !  "  and  she  kissed  her  tenderly. 

"  Our  hearts  would  faint  within  us  if  we  did  not  be- 
lieve superior  wisdom  orders  that  the  good  should  finally 
prevail,  though  our  finite  patience  sometimes  tires  wait- 
ing for  it.  It  lies  buried  deep  in  many  instances,  but 
God  shall  surely  find  it." 

"  If  we  could  have  as  much  faith  in  the  good  !  We 
see  the  working  of  evil  and  accept  it  with  a  strange 
philosophy  almost  like  fatalism.  We  ought  to  feel  just  as 
certain  of  the  good.  And  I  occasionally  think  if  we 
were  more  enthusiastically  certain  about  it,  we  should 
help  to  bring  it  to  pass  by  our  very  earnestness.  It  would 
inspire  others." 

"  Isn't  that  the  evidence  of  things  unseen  ?  "  and  Lyn- 
dell  smiled. 

There  were  many  things  to  plan  about.  Uncle  Con 
had  obtained  steamer  tickets  and  inspected  state-rooms, 
and  most  of  the  important  baggage  was  safely  stored  in 
the  city,  so  there  would  be  no  special  confusion  at  the 
day  of  sailing.  He  had  almost  a  mind  to  run  over 
himself,  he  declared,  but  he  had  promised  to  remain  and 
allow  two  of  his  compeers  a  vacation. 

"  I  shall  feel  so  much  safer  to  have  you  within  call," 
Tessy  said.  "  Not  that  I  anticipate  any  mishaps,  and  here 
is  Doctor  Underwood  at  hand.  Then  you  can't  imagine 
what  a  dependence  Sherburne  has  come  to  be.  And  his 
father  is  delighted  with  his  change  of  plans.  I  fervently 
hope  he  will  keep  to  this  resolve." 

"  O,  he  has  a  good  deal  of  perseverance  when  his 
heart  is  set  on  a  thing,"  returned  Con,  with  a  rather 
mystifying  gleam  in  his  eye. 

Sherburne  and  his  uncle  had  met  with  a  throng  of  rela- 


A  BROAD,   BRIGHT  SPACE.  345 

tives  about  them.  There  had  only  been  opportunity  for 
a  cordial  hand-shake  with  a  great  deal  of  hearty  assur- 
ance on  the  elder's  part,  and  a  very  scarlet  face  on  the 
younger's.  And  Gertrude  was  behind  with  some  of 
the  family,  so  that  greeting  was  quietly  familiar. 

The  professor  had  come  with  their  party.  In  spite  of 
the  many  last  duties  that  had  crowded  in  he  was  looking 
remarkably  well.  There  had  been  much  common  sense 
counsel  on  Mrs.  Kenneth's  part  that  had  rectified  some 
of  the  careless  habits. 

"  You  must  remember,"  she  had  said,  "  that  the  whole 
duty  of  marriage  is  not  comprehended  in  making  love 
and  giving  your  wife  a  home  and  support,  and  expecting 
her  to  look  after  the  exquisite  minor  details  that  make 
life  run  smoothly.  She  gives  you  her  lovely  youth,  and 
though  hundreds  of  men  marry  with  nine  or  ten  years 
difference  in  ages,  Princess  is  one  of  the  girls  who  will 
keep  her  youth  a  long  while,  and  you  must  not  allow 
yourself  to  grow  old  too  rapidly." 

"  I  dare  say  I  shall  turn  into  a  frisky  Benedict,  and  be 
younger  at  thirty  than  I  was  at  twenty.  What  a  delight- 
ful sister  you  have  been  to  me,"  he  replied,  with  deep 
feeling. 

There  were  so  many  nooks  and  corners  and  places 
that  the  lovers  strayed  off  unmolested.  It  was  as  if  their 
courtship  was  just  beginning.  The  others  were  eagerly 
discussing  everything  so  that  no  plan  should  go  wrong  at 
the  last  moment. 

The  morning  dawned  radiantly.  Sherburne  brides  al- 
ways had  fine  wedding  days.  That  the  bride  should 
look  lovely  in  her  filmy  wedding  gown  and  veil  was  only 
natural.  There  was  no  real  sense  of  separation,  that 
would  not  come  until  she  was  quite  settled  to  her  new 


346  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

path  of  life.  And  since  his  darling  was  happy  and  had 
a  fairly  good  prospect  before  her,  Judge  Beaumanoir 
gave  her  to  the  honorable,  refined,  and  trustworthy  gen- 
tleman, with  the  best  and  truest  wishes  of  a  father. 

There  was  a  great  group  of  white-robed  cherubs,  a 
flock  of  older  girls,  and  the  cousins  nearest  in  age  as  at- 
tendants. All  Ardmore  said  it  was  the  prettiest  wedding 
there  had  ever  been  in  the  old  church ;  and  Mr.  Armi- 
tage  confessed  it  a  very  proud  occasion  for  himself. 

Everybody  thronged  about,  and  were  full  of  good 
wishes  and  love.  The  steps  and  path  were  thronged  with 
colored  people  who  had  strewn  the  way  to  the  carriage 
with  flowers.  The  young  people  were  hardly  less  notice- 
able, a  striking  array  of  cousins,  since  the  families  had 
kept  broadening  out. 

And  then  there  was  a  delicious  sort  of  confusion,  too 
really  joyous  to  admit  of  the  pang  at  parting.  The  house 
was  full  of  guests.  Hospitality  and  custom  counted  for 
more  than  any  society  regulations,  and  seemed  natural 
and  beautiful  here,  the  outgrowth  of  real  and  tender 
feeling. 

The  Carews  were  to  go  up  to  New  York,  leaving  Ran- 
dolph behind  for  a  summer  with  the  boys.  The  Dray- 
tons  with  the  two  children  were  to  remain  awhile,  but 
Mr.  Mallory's  return  was  urgent,  and  his  wife  was  not 
only  devoted  to  him,  but  to  her  ailing  father-in-law, 
who  adored  her  and  could  hardly  bear  her  out  of  his 
sight. 

Tessy  smiled  to  keep  from  tears.  Of  course  her  first 
duty  was  to  her  husband,  but  it  tore  her  heart  to  leave 
her  sweet,  merry  flock  for  so  long.  She  had  not  been 
abroad  since  the  birth  of  her  last  baby,  and  her  jaunt  to 
California  had  included  two  of  the  children. 


A   BROAD,    BRIGHT  SPACE.  347 

"O  Sherburne,"  she  exclaimed,  beseechingly,  "you 
will  look  after  them  and  see  that  no  evil  happens  !  I 
shall  trust  them  to  you.  You  have  been  so  tender  and 
thoughtful  since  papa's  illness.  It  has  been  such  a  com- 
fort to  me.  I  think  it  enabled  me  to  give  away  Princess 
with  a  better  grace. ' ' 

"  O  mamma,  dear,  I  am  glad  to  have  been  a  comfort 
to  you,"  and  as  he  gathered  her  in  his  arms  the  tears 
shone  in  his  eyes.  "  You  may  trust  them  to  me,  surely. 
But  I  shall  have  so  much  help  that  I  really  will  not  be 
able  to  claim  only  a  little  oversight  for  my  part.  You 
and  father  must  feel  perfectly  at  rest,  and  content." 

His  father  said  something  of  the  same  thing  to  him, 
and  added,  "I  shall  take  with  me  the  remembrance  of 
all  you  have  been  to  me  the  last  three  months,  and  the 
hope  of  our  truer  sympathetic  relation  in  the  future.  It 
will  be  the  fulfilment  of  my  most  earnest  desire." 

The  good-byes  were  said,  and  the  string  of  carriages 
rolled  away  to  the  station  where  many  of  the  Ardmore 
friends  awaited  them.  The  pretty  bride  waved  her  hand, 
though  there  was  a  mist  of  tears  in  her  eyes,  but  the  lit- 
tle mother  did  not  look  back.  One  after  another  and 
then  the  wheels  grew  fainter  and  were  lost  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

"Well,"  declared  Uncle  Con,  "we  certainly  have 
a  good  houseful  left,"  and  he  glanced  around  with  a 
smiling  sort  of  condolence.  "  It  seems  to  be  a  case  of 
the  greatest  common  divisor." 

Aunt  Julia  and  Mrs.  Kenneth  were  in  a  gentle  current 
of  reminiscences.  Ray  and  Ruth  were  very  sympathetic 
"twins,"  Milly  Beaumanoir  said,  because  they  had  only 
one  syllable  in  their  names  and  that  began  with  R.  Ray 
had  buried  her  sad  episode  at  Mount  Desert  out  of  sight. 


348  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

and  it  seemed  now  like  a  dream  about  some  other  girl, 
There  would  always  be  a  memory  between  her  and  her 
father  different  from  that  of  most  parents  and  children, 
but  they  seldom  spoke  of  it,  and  Aunt  Julia  had  over- 
lived the  pang.  God  had  ended  the  matter  wisely,  and 
they  were  content  to  leave  it  in  His  hands.  There  was  a 
peculiar  sympathy  between  these  two  girls,  whose  lives 
had  not  been  unbroken  summer. 

Gertrude  in  a  fashion  seemed  to  be  the  head  of  the 
house,  as  no  one  else  was  anxious  to  take  charge.  She 
accepted  the  position  with  a  great  deal  of  tact  and  un- 
failing good  humor.  The  big  boys  hovered  about  her, 
Bertram  claiming  her  on  account  of  the  old  friendship 
when  they  had  scrambled  over  rocks,  gathered  creeping 
things,  run  races  and  helped  the  children  build  seashore 
palaces.  Ned  Beaumanoir  was  curiously  attracted  as 
well,  and  his  brother,  Leonard,  declared  Mrs.  Murray 
was  a  trump. 

Sherburne  experienced  a  pang  of  jealousy.  That  boy- 
ish foolishness  was  over,  and  yet — was  it  really  love  ? 
He  could  recall  so  many  delightful  episodes,  beginning 
with  that  first  talk.  She  was  so  piquant,  she  had  a  way 
of  saying  such  merry,  suggestive  things  that  brought  out 
other  people's  brightness.  And  he  wanted  to  be  her  best 
friend,  her  compeer,  her  chum,  if  she  had  been  a  young 
fellow. 

There  was  a  rather  irregular  dinner,  for  everybody 
was  quite  demoralized.  They  drank  toasts  however, 
and  some  bright  speeches  were  made,  and  good  wishes 
sent  after  the  travelers.  Then  the  children  had  a  romp 
in  everyday  attire,  in  which  Aunt  Gertie  was  the  mov- 
ing spirit,  and  were  ready  to  go  to  bed  when  the  two 
elder  invalids  thought  it  time  to  retire. 


A   BROAD,   BRIGHT  SPACE.  349 

Ned  Beaumanoir  walked  down  the  avenue  with  the 
two  girls,  and  they  talked  the  marriage  over  and  the 
courtship  that  had  somehow  gone  on  so  unsuspiciously. 

"  But  the  professor  liked  her  from  the  very  beginning," 
declared  Ray. 

"  Of  course  I  didn't  see  the  very  beginning,"  said 
Ruth,  archly,  "  but  they  talked  of  him  all  the  rest  of  the 
summer.  And  he  was  so  fond  of  talking  about  her,  not 
in  any  effusive  manner,  but  saying  dainty  little  things, 
mentioning  those  that  suggested  her.  And  he  has  a  very 
lovely,  gentle  temper,  not  weak,  for  I  have  known  him 
to  be  quite  indignant  about  some  things.  He  just  suits 
Princess." 

Ray  gave  a  little  half  sigh,  remembering  those  days  of 
semi- illness  when  he  had  suited  her  so  delightfully.  And 
she  wondered,  girl-like,  whether  there  would  ever  be  any 
one  to  fill  that  place  in  the  vague  dream  that  comes  in 
most  girls'  lives. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  the  same  prospect  of  happiness 
when  I  am  eight  and  twenty,"  declared  Ned.  "  He  is 
held  in  high  esteem,  and  Princess  may  be  proud  enough 
when  she  hears  him  lecturing  to  the  savants  as  well  as 
the  ordinary  people." 

"And  Princess  is  prouder  of  intellectual  attainments 
than  she  would  be  of  a  title." 

"  It  must  be  delightful  to  have  any  one  love  you  that 
way,"  said  Ned.  "It  is  enough  to  inspire  one.  And 
it  is  funny,  but  no  one  in  the  faculty,  or  outside  of  it 
fancied  Professor  Kenneth  a  marrying  man.  He  took 
them  all  by  surprise.  Of  course  it  would  have  been  dif- 
ferent if  Princess  had  been  living  in  the  city.  After  all, 
a  delightful  home  is  the  most  splendid  thing  a  man  can 
have,  and  you  can't  have  that  without  a  wife." 


35Q  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

Both  girls  laughed  a  little,  and  Ray  said  he  was  more 
than  half  in  love  with  Princess. 

Then  they  went  on  discussing  marriage  and  falling  in 
love  with  the  perspicacity  of  youth  and  inexperience,  and 
frankly  stating  likes  and  dislikes  with  various  bursts  of 
enthusiasm  and  ideality. 

Randolph  Carew  had  taken  possession  of  Uncle  Archie. 
He  was  not  the  boy's  ideal  soldier,  and  he  had  vague 
wonders  about  him.  Had  he  found  the  service  hard  and 
distasteful  ? 

"Uncle  Archie,"  he  began,  "did  you  like  West 
Point  ?  Or  did  you  go  because  your  father  wanted  you 
to?" 

"From  both  causes,  I  think,"  and  the  smile  that 
could  be  felt  in  his  voice  gave  Randolph  a  sudden  thrill. 
"You  see  I  was  the  son  of  a  very  enthusiastic  soldier, 
whose  regard  for  his  country  had  been  fostered  by  help- 
ing to  save  it  from  anarchy.  There  never  was  any  idea 
but  that  I  should  go  to  West  Point.  I  never  thought  of 
anything  else." 

"  But  if  he  had  not  wanted  you  to  go  ?  " 

"  I  can't  imagine  that.  He  must  have  had  some  dif- 
ferent profession." 

"And  you  liked  it?"  the  boy  assumed. 

"Yes.  I  liked  the  spirit  and  enthusiasm.  We  were 
all  alive  with  it  in  those  days.  The  training  is  pretty 
severe,  and  boys  who  have  a  delightful  home  and  an 
abundance  of  indulgent  love  might  get  rather  down- 
hearted longing  for  it.  I  had  been  away  at  school,  and 
— well,  my  lad,  even  a  peace  soldier's  life  has  a  great 
many  hardships  in  it." 

"  Would  you  do  it  over  again  ?  " 

"Why,  yes,  my  boy,  though  under  the  circumstances 


A   BROAD,    BRIGHT  SPACE.  351 

there  would  be  no  other  course  to  follow  for  me.  Cir- 
cumstances carry  great  weight  and  when  one's  fancies 
run  in  the  same  direction  it  is  easy  to  decide.  I  was 
proud  of  my  father.  He  was  a  fine,  courageous  soldier, 
who  had  done  his  duty  nobly,  and  I  wanted  to  be  one." 

"And  my  father  is  a  splendid  man  and  is  doing  his 
duty  nobly.  Saving  lives  and  caring  for  poor  bodies  is 
a  grand  work.  I  am  very  proud  of  him  and  the  fame  he 
has  won.  And  yet  I  want  to  go  to  West  Point  and 
have  a  soldier's  training.  There  is  something  so  inspirit- 
ing in  it." 

"Ah,  the  desire  lies  that  way,  does  it?"  Uncle 
Archie  drew  the  lad  more  tenderly  to  him.  Ah,  if  he 
had  such  a  son  !  If  Ray  had  brothers  he  could  train 
and  be  proud  of,  and  the  great  want  and  sorrow  of  his 
life  came  to  him  more  forcibly  than  it  had  in  years.  It 
had  been  hard  to  suffer  for  boyish  generosity  and  inex- 
perience. "And  your  father  objects?"  he  suggested 
after  a  pause. 

"  I  think  papa  would  consent.  You  see  there  is  a 
whole  year  before  I  could  go.  But  mamma  would  take 
it  very  hard." 

"And  you  may  change  your  mind."  That  was  what 
the  others  had  said.  "  You  know,  I  suppose,  that  if  you 
accept  the  proffer  of  the  country  for  four  years  of  train- 
ing, you  owe  her  in  return  some  years  of  service.  There 
is  nothing  very  exhilarating  about  it  now.  We  may  never 
have  another  war — I  pray  God  Ave  may  not.  Then  there 
is  only  frontier  and  fort  duty,  and  an  occasional  skirmish 
with  the  Indians.     Promotions  are  slow." 

"  I  want  the  training,  the  sort  of  esprit  du  corps"  said 
the  boy,  spiritedly.  "  I  do  not  want  to  study  medicine. 
If  I  can't  do  that,  I  shall  choose  civil  engineering." 


352  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"Then  the  military  training  would  stand  you  in  good 
stead,  if  you  took  that  up  afterward." 

Uncle  Archie  wondered  if  he  had  any  right  to  encour- 
age the  boy.  Ah,  if  he  were  his,  what  pride  he  would 
take  in  him.  Something  about  him  suggested  his  own 
youth  and  all  his  high  hopes. 

"  Uncle  Archie,"  the  lad's  tone  dropped  to  a  lower, 
hesitating  key,  "  if  you  liked  it  so  much,  how  could  you 
bear  to  give  it  up  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  story  connected  with  it,  Randolph,  that 
you  are  too  young  to  understand."  The  man's  tone  was 
soft,  regretful,  tender,  and  the  boy  clung  closer  to  him. 
"  Some  day,  if  you  are  a  soldier,  I  will  tell  it  over  to  you, 
and  you  will  see  that  I  could  not  well  have  done  differ- 
ently and  kept  my  manliness.  It  was  a  great  cross  to 
me.  But  I  learned  through  it  more  about  that  other 
spiritual  warfare.  I  was  not  less  a  soldier  because  1  did 
not  live  in  a  tent  or  fort,  and  there  were  other  enemies  to 
conquer.  But  my  heart  is  still  in  the  service.  And  if 
the  country  had  need  of  me,  now  that  the  other  duty  is 
ended,  I  should  go  at  once." 

They  walked  on  in  silence  for  some  time. 

"  I  wish  you'd  tell  me  something  about  the  life.  We 
drill  at  the  institute  and  we  have  a  few  military  regula- 
tions." 

The  boy  listened  with  avidity.  True,  he  was  young 
and  might  outgrow  his  fancy,  but  if  Uncle  Archie  had 
seen  the  fire  in  his  eyes  and  the  flush  coming  and  going 
on  his  cheek,  he  could  have  discerned  the  true  soldier 
enthusiasm  that  would  never  be  quenched,  even  if  relin- 
quished. The  Carews  had  another  boy — why  not  allow 
this  one  to  follow  his  bent.  His  own  mother  had  not  ob- 
jected, he  remembered,  but  she  had  been  a  soldier's  wife. 


A   BROAD,   BRIGHT  SPACE.  353 

Bertram  took  possession  of  Gertrude.  Sherburne  was 
annoyed.  He  had  resolved  on  a  good  long  explanatory 
talk,  but  rack  his  brains  as  he  might,  he  could  find  no 
reasonable  excuse  for  detaching  the  younger.  So  he  and 
Uncle  Con  sat  on  the  step  and  talked  over  his  plans. 
The  warm  approval  soothed  his  restlessness,  and  the  keen 
interest,  the  certainty  Uncle  Con  felt  of  his  succeeding 
and  reaching  a  high  place,  if  he  resolved  in  earnest  and 
worked  to  this  end,  cheered  and  inspirited  him. 

What  a  magnificent  night  it  was.  The  wind  had 
blown  up  much  cooler,  and  the  stars  shone  with  unwonted 
brilliancy.  Two  or  three  birds  were  answering  each 
other  at  intervals  and  between  the  sweet  silences  a  sort 
of  heavenly  charm  brooded  over  all. 

It  was  late  when  they  said  good-night.  But  coming 
down  the  next  morning  Sherburne  found  Gertrude  alone, 
cutting  some  roses  to  adorn  the  breakfast- table. 

"  I  am  early,"  she  said,  half  in  apology.  "  Con  had 
to  do  a  little  writing,  and  it  was  so  lovely  out  here.  O, 
I  can  understand  how  all  you  people  just  adore  Sherburne 
House  !  I  almost  wonder  how  Princess  could  waive  her 
right  in  such  a  home.  I  should  have  wanted  to  sink 
gently  and  resignedly  into  old  maidenhood,  and  wander 
about  these  mysterious  shades  forever." 

"  Well — "  almost  moodily,  "  it  might  have  been  yours. 
It  is  to  be  mine  some  day." 

"  Sherburne  !  "  with  a  note  of  warning. 

"  I  am  glad  it  didn't  tempt  you.  No,  I  am  not  going 
to  sink  into  bathos,  but  since  I've  made  up  with  Uncle 
Con,  and  know  him  for  the  splendid,  large-hearted  and 
generous  fellow  that  he  is,  I  must  make  my  apology  to 
you.  I  shall  feel  more  manly  and  have  a  greater  respect 
for  myself  when  it  is  done.     I  think  it  was  a  sort  of 


354  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

mid-winter  madness — is  there  such  a  thing  ?  For  I  shall 
have  to  admit  that  I  was  lost  alike  to  honor  and  truth. 
My  accusations  were  monstrous!  I  can  understand  how 
a  girl  could  love  Uncle  Con  without  a  thought  of  his 
money,  and  he  is  worthy  of  the  best  love  a  woman  has. 
And  looking  at  it  in  a  calmer  light,  you  did  not  promise 
me  anything.  It  was  my  overweening  vanity  that  led  me 
to  think  I  could  win  you  against  the  charm  and  ex- 
perience of  a  man  of  the  world ' ' 

"And  whom  I  had  loved  unconsciously,  without  hope, 
but  quite  enough  to  keep  me  from  loving  any  other  man," 
she  interrupted. 

1 '  I  did  repeat  my  angry  impressions  to  Princess,  but  I 
am  glad  that  I  did  not  influence  her.  She  was  too  far  gone 
in  love's  net,  and  I  am  thankful  I  was  not  fool  enough  to 
bruit  it  any  farther  abroad.  And  now  I  want  you  to 
forgive  all  the  wild,  unreasonable  and  untrue  language  I 
used,  and  give  me  a  chance  to  reinstate  myself  in  your 
esteem.     Then  I  shall  ask  for  your  friendship." 

"  O  Sherburne,  you  have  our  friendship,  his  and  mine. 
He  was  quite  vexed  once,  but  soon  saw  the  matter  in 
its  true  light.  I  hope  you  will  not  be  any  worse  for  the 
experience,  nor  lose  faith  in  women,"  pausing  while  a 
smile  irradiated  her  eyes  and  hovered  about  her  lips. 
"  Some  day  you  will  know  what  real  love  is !  " 

He  thought  he  knew  now.  He  was  secretly  mortified 
that  no  one  would  take  his  love  in  earnest.  Perhaps  he 
had  not  deserved  that  it  should  be  respected. 

"  So  we  will  dismiss  the  subject,"  she  resumed.  "  We 
are  all  sorry  it  happened,  and  I  am  doubly  sorry  that  any 
carelessness  on  my  part  should  have  led  you  on.  I  did 
try  several  times  to  disabuse  you,  but  I  was  not  sure  your 
fancy  had  any  depth.     And  now  I  am  going  to  give  you 


A   BROAD,    BRIGHT  SPACE.  355 

a  rose  in  token  of  amity,  one  of  your  own  Sherburne 
roses." 

She  pinned  a  dainty  opening  bud  in  his  coat.  He 
wanted  to  kiss  her  hand — the  children  had  fallen  into  the 
habit  of  kissing  her,  even  Bertram,  but  a  feeling  of  re- 
spect restrained  him. 

Then  she  turned  and  went  in  with  her  airy,  graceful 
step.  Yes,  he  loved  her  still,  but  he  accepted  the  de- 
crees of  fate. 

She  made  the  way  easy  for  him  with  a  charming 
friendliness.  There  was  no  one  among  the  girls  quite 
like  her.  And  he  wondered  whether  Uncle  Con  really 
appreciated  the  prize  he  had  gained. 

It  was  too  warm  for  much  pleasuring  except  the  early 
morning  drive,  and  the  late  afternoon  when  the  wind 
blew  up  and  gave  them  lovely  evenings.  They  heard 
from  the  party,  a  telegram  from  papa,  to  say  the  whole 
colony  were  on  board  and  the  tide  would  be  right  in  two 
hours,  and  that  he  should  expect  them  to  send  letters  by 
the  next  steamer. 

Then  Uncle  Con  had  to  go  up  to  the  city.  They  be- 
sought him  to  let  Gertrude  stay,  but  he  pictured  his 
solitariness  in  such  heartrending  terms,  and  his  utter  in- 
ability to  even  cook  an  egg  or  toast  a  piece  of  bread,  and 
he  knew  the  baker  would  charge  him  ten  cents  for  a  five 
cent  loaf,  and  the  butcher  cheat  him,  and  the  candlestick 
maker  refuse  him  any  light. 

"But  you  burn  gas,"  said  small  Lawrence.  "And 
isn't  there  any  cook?     Why,  we  could  lend  you  one." 

"  Well,  really,  to  tell  you  the  truth  I  am  afraid  you 
will  eat  up  Aunt  Gertrude  if  I  leave  her  behind.  She's 
awfully  sweet."  They  all  promised  solemnly  that  they 
would  not,  but  he  could  not  be  convinced. 


356  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

Mrs.  Stanwood  was  going  up  to  the  city  to  visit  at  the 
charming  rectory  on  Long  Island,  with  its  host  of  attract- 
ive grandchildren,  and  the  pretty  rural  home  of  her  son, 
Winthrop,  in  which  there  was  only  baby  Julia.  Uncle 
Con  was  willing  to  take  charge  of  her,  as  Archie's 
week  of  leave  had  expired  and  he  was  due  at  the  office. 
They  begged  so  for  Mrs.  Kenneth  to  stay  that  she  finally 
assented. 

And  then  came  the  first  batch  of  letters  from  the  trav- 
elers, written  mostly  on  shipboard.  The  passage  had 
proved  delightful  with  only  one  stormy  day  and  that  not 
very  severe.  Mamma  had  been  very  sick  two  days, 
Princess  only  slightly  so,  the  professor  not  at  all,  and 
papa  not  very  brilliant  for  several  days,  but  not  really  ill. 
They  would  have  a  week  or  two  in  London  and  then  go 
to  Germany,  with  the  Amorys. 

There  was  almost  a  holiday  with  the  children.  They 
ran  free  in  the  morning,  often  driving  over  to  Beaumanoir 
or  to  Aunt  Fanny's.  Afterward  two  hours  in  the  large 
airy  schoolroom,  then  music  and  play  or  any  reading 
they  chose.  Delia,  as  they  called  her,  had  developed  a 
decided  talent  for  sketching  and  was  very  fond  of  it. 
Milly  had  a  very  sweet  voice  and  went  caroling  about 
the  place  like  a  bird.  The  governess  and  Ruth  Ensign 
fraternized  most  agreeably. 

The  boys  soon  grew  as  fond  of  Mrs.  Kenneth  as  the 
girls  had  been,  and  she  was  quite  charmed  and  enter- 
tained with  the  diversity  of  character.  Bertram  and 
Randolph  were  great  chums,  and  though  the  latter  was 
not  an  enthusiastic  naturalist,  he  was  very  good-humored 
and  often  assisted  with  specimens. 

Ned  and  Sherburne  grew  into  a  delightful  friendship. 
It  had  begun  during  the  last  year  in  Germany,  but  Ian- 


A   BROAD,    BRIGHT  SPACE.  357 

guished  through  the  winter.  Now  they  had  renewed  it 
and  were  taking  much  interest  in  each  other's  plans, 
growing  into  almost  brotherly  accord.  Ned  was  very 
generous  in  his  admiration  of  his  handsome,  and  really 
brilliant  cousin.  They  went  up  to  Washington  together 
for  a  few  days,  and  Ned  was  pleased  with  the  verdict  of 
the  legal  firm  with  which  his  uncle  was  connected. 

"I  really  do  not  see  why  you  should  have  taken  a 
fancy  to  medicine  when  the  advantages  of  the  law  were 
right  before  you,"  he  said,  rather  wonderingly  to  Sher- 
burne. 

"  I  think  it  queer,  now,"  and  the  other  laughed,  lightly. 
"I'd  had  a  fancy  all  along  that  law  was  dull  and  prosy 
and  had  no  really  fine  points  in  it ;  that  its  practice  was 
rather  corrupting  to  one's  moral  tone." 

"It  hasn't  corrupted  your  father  very  much.  I  think 
Uncle  Len  a  really  splendid  man." 

"He  is  all  that,"  returned  his  son,  warmly.  "I  sup- 
pose children  always  love  an  indulgent  father,  but  it  takes 
experience  and  a  certain  knowledge  to  truly  appreciate. 
To  tell  the  truth  his  illness  roused  a  new  feeling  within 
me.  Not  altogether  the  sense  of  passionate  despair  at 
the  prospect  of  his  loss,  but  a  realization  of  what  he  was 
to  mamma  and  all  of  us,  and  a  sense  of  my  own  duty  as 
a  son.  I  had  been  a  careless  sort  of  fellow,  taking  things 
largely  for  granted,  and  not  considering  my  share  in  the 
responsibility,  ready  to  receive  but  not  very  ready  to  give 
except  for  my  own  pleasure.  And  now  it  looks  different 
to  me.  Life  is  a  greater  gift  than  I  have  heretofore  con- 
sidered it.  I  want  to  make  a  wise  use  of  it.  And  I 
must  begin  at  home." 

Ned  was  studying  him  with  earnest,  admiring  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  he  returned,  thoughtfully.      "  We  are  building 


358  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

now  for  all  the  rest  of  life,  for  another  world  as  well.  I 
can't  believe  that  all  the  knowledge  garnered  here  will 
drop  out  or  be  of  no  account  in  another  world.  What- 
ever elevates  the  human  mind,  every  noble  deed,  every 
kindly  and  generous  one,  must  reach  up  to  the  divine 
life.  But  if  it  was  only  in  this  life  it  would  be  a  better 
thing  to  strive  for  the  upbuilding  of  those  around  us, 
than  to  be  indifferent  to  our  fellow -creatures." 

"And  to  those  who  love  us,"  Sherburne  said,  softly. 
He  was  indeed  trying.  And  it  was  strange  to  him  to 
discern  so  much  sweetness  in  the  common  duties,  to  ex- 
perience a  new  satisfaction  in  studying  the  wants  and 
pleasures  of  the  household,  and  ministering  to  them.  It 
was  not  always  agreeable  to  put  up  his  book  and  take  an 
interest  in  Bertram's  doings,  or  allow  Larry  to  cling  to 
him  and  listen  to  childish  wants  and  pleasures.  But  he 
had  accepted  the  more  serious  aspect  of  life  and  this  was 
part  of  the  discipline. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   LESSONS    OF   LIFE. 

44  rVfO,  you  cannot  go  with  us,  Larry.  That  is  the 
■^^      last  word.     There  is  no  use  teasing." 

"You're  a  mean  old  thing,  Sher  Beaumanoir !  "  and 
the  child  gave  a  vicious  kick  in  the  gravel  path,  sending 
the  dust  flying.  "  I  can't  stay  home  all  alone.  Bert's 
going." 

"But  Bertram  is  a  big  fellow  and  can  walk  miles  and 
miles.  You  would  get  tired  to  death.  Besides,  as  I 
said,  it  would  be  no  real  fun  to  you." 

Sherburne  was  provoked  at  himself  for  reiterating  rea- 
sons when  he  had  said  he  would  not.  He  turned  away, 
but  his  little  brother  made  a  sudden  spring  and  twined 
his  arms  so  tightly  about  the  elder's  limbs  that  it  nearly 
toppled  him  over. 

"Lawrence  !  "  The  tone  was  stern  now  as  he  undid 
the  small  clinging  hands.  "  I  shall  shut  you  up  in  the 
schoolroom  for  the  next  hour." 

Larry  began  to  struggle  and  cry. 

" But  I  am  all  alone,  and  what  can  I  do?  There's  no 
one  to  play  with  !  " 

"You  can  go  down  to  Aunt  Fanny's.  All  the  girls 
are  there." 

"  I  don't  want  to  play  with  girls." 

"But  there's  Phil  and  Cecil." 

"Them  little  shavers!"  with  the  most  sublime  dis- 
dain, and  utter  disregard  of  his  pronoun.  Sherburne 
could  not  help  smiling  at  the  air. 

"  359 


360  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

"Then  go  over  to  grandpapa's.  He  will  be  glad  to 
see  you." 

"  I  don't  want  to,"  sullenly. 

»  Well — shall  I  shut  you  up  in  the  schoolroom  ?" 

"  You're  just  mean  and  hateful  !  And  I'll  tell  papa 
you  wouldn't  do  anything  for  me,  but  just  went  off  to 
have  fun  all  the  time." 

< '  That  would  not  be  true,  Larry,  and  I  think  you  love 
papa  too  well  to  tell  him  a  falsehood,  even  if  you  do  not 
love  me." 

"  No,  I  don't  love  you  one  bit." 

The  cherry  lips  were  set  firmly  and  the  eyes  had  a 
lowering  expression.  Sherburne  had  grown  really  fond 
of  his  little  brother,  who  was  bright,  smart  and  amusing, 
but  wilful. 

"I  am  dreadfully  sorry  about  that."  There  was  no 
use  talking  to  the  child  when  you  could  make  no  impres- 
sion upon  him.  So  he  turned  away,  hating  to  leave  him 
alone,  but  there  was  nothing  else  in  the  child's  present 
mood. 

The  others  were  coming  around.  Jasper,  a  young 
colored  factotum,  had  a  hamper  and  some  fishing  tackle ; 
Bertram  had  two  nets  and  a  box  slung  over  his  shoulder. 

Larry  started  off  presently.  He  could  run  like  a  deer, 
and  in  a  few  moments  had  disappeared. 

It  was  a  half  cloudy  morning,  not  at  all  prefiguring 
rain,  but  with  a  soft,  grey  under-roof  of  cloud  that  moved 
about,  Ned  said,  "  like  a  spirit  on  the  face  of  the  waters." 
So  after  a  little  they  were  ready  to  start  on  their  day's  out- 
ing. Ned  had  a  book  under  his  arm,  he  was  rarely  with- 
out one.  Randolph  looked  eager  for  enjoyment,  he  was 
getting  to  be  quite  a  country  boy,  but  he  couldn't  under- 
stand Bertram's  interest  in  "bugs  and  things,"  and  his 


THE  LESSONS  OF  LIFE.  361 

delight  was   to  have   Sherburne   declaim  from  the  Latin 
orations,  or  repeat  striking  passages  of  the  Greek  poets. 

Lawrence  was  not  in  sight.  After  giving  some  direc- 
tions to  Maum  Chloe,  since  the  governess  had  gone  home 
on  a  vacation,  and  feeling  confident  the  child  would 
finally  go  to  Aunt  Fanny's,  they  took  up  their  line  of 
march. 

They  had  gone  a  mile  perhaps  when  Bertram  made  a 
plunge  in  a  wayside  thicket  to  capture  a  moth.  There 
was  a  trodden  path  much  frequented  by  the  negroes  as  a 
short  cut,  coming  out  on  the  road. 

"  Hillo  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

Lawrence  gave  a  short,  triumphant  laugh  and  looked 
the  very  picture  of  elation. 

" I  can  walk  well  enough,"  he  began.  "I've  walked 
miles  and  miles,  and  I  can  go  along  just  as  well  as  not." 

"O  Lawrence,"  said  Ned,  persuasively,  "  you  would 
get  tired  to  death.  And  there  is  nothing  to  amuse  a  lit- 
tle boy.  See  here,  to-morrow  we'll  drive  over  to  Mason's 
creek,  and  you  shall  row  the  boat." 

Sherburne  was  vexed  at  the  evasion.  He  seized  his 
little  brother  by  the  arm  and  drew  him  out  in  the  road. 

"  Go  on,  boys,"  he  said,  turning  the  child  around  and 
walking  back  rapidly.  Lawrence  gave  a  sulky  kick  but 
missed  his  brother's  leg,  and  though  he  tried  to  lag,  the 
elder  hurried  him  along  by  his  superior  strength. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  he  asked,  curiosity  as  to  his 
fate  getting  the  better  of  him. 

"I  am  going  back  home  with  you  and  shall  lock  you 
up  in  the  schoolroom,"  said  the  elder,  resolutely. 

"  I  will  climb  out  of  the  window,"  defiantly. 

"I'll  put  old  Crissy  in  to  watch  you." 

Old  Crissy  was  a  sharp  negress,  big  and  strong,  and 


362  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

handy  with    a  strap,  and  was  famous  for  keeping  the 
younger  generation  of  darkies  in  order. 

"She   wouldn't   dare   strike   me.      I'd   just  write   to 
papa 


"You  deserve  a  thrashing,  you  little  rascal!  But  if 
she  didn't  thrash  you  she  could  keep  you  from  climbing 
out  of  the  window." 

That  was  true  enough.  Larry's  dark  eyes  blazed  at 
being  outgeneraled.  "  I  just  hate  you  !  "  he  cried,  with 
anger. 

Sherburne  made  no  reply  but  hurried  on.  To  be  shut 
up  with  old  Crissy  did  not  look  inviting,  and  the  child 
began  to  consider. 

"  See  here,  Slier,"  he  cried,  at  length,  still  in  a  furious 
temper,  "don't  have  me  locked  up!  I  won't  follow 
you,  honest  and  true.  I'll — I'll  stay.  But  I  don't  want 
— to  be  locked  up," — crying  in  good  earnest. 

Sherburne  paid  no  attention. 

"O  Sher,  please  don't,"  he  entreated.  "  I  won't  do 
anything  but  just  play  round,  unless  I  go  to  Aunt 
Fanny's.     Yes,  I'll  go  there." 

"Will  you,  truly?"  Sherburne  stopped  and  looked 
his  little  brother  over  with  much  severity  in  his  aspect. 

"  Yes,  I  will — I  just  will,"  he  pleaded. 

"Very  well,  then.  And  if  you  shouldn't,  Larry,  I'll 
punish  you  severely  myself,  to-morrow — do  you  hear  ? ' ' 

The  boy  nodded.  Sherburne  released  his  arm,  and 
watched  him  a  moment  as  he  trudged  on  slowly  without 
glancing  around. 

"Be  a  good  boy,"  he  sang  out,  resuming  his  own 
journey. 

They  had  a  grand  day  fishing,  lying  about  in  the 
shade  arguing  several  points  which  led  to  a  rather  heated 


THE  LESSONS  OF  LIFE.  363 

interest,  but  no  anger.  Bertram  captured  a  number  of  new 
specimens.  Never  had  lunch  tasted  better,  and  never 
had  there  been  a  finer  day  for  their  purpose.  They  took 
a  nap  on  the  bed  of  dry  pine  needles,  and  then,  refreshed, 
started  slowly  homeward.  Ned  was  enjoying  life  as  he 
never  had  before,  "crawling  out  of  his  shell,"  Sher- 
burne told  him. 

"Sher,  you  will  make  a  great  success  in  life,  I  know. 
You  inspire  people.  I  never  gave  you  credit  for  half 
your  virtues.  I  used  to  think  it  a  great  pity  you  were  so 
pleasure-loving,  but  there  is  a  good  deal  beside  that  in 
you,  and  you  make  the  pleasures  exhilarating  and  attract- 
ive. All  work  and  no  play  does  make  Jack  a  dull  boy. 
I've  found  out  that." 

"Thank  you,"  and  Sherburne  laughed  joyously. 
"You  see  I  always  acquired  everything  easily  and  had 
lots  of  time  to  spend  in  fooling,  and  I  suppose  it  did  give 
me  the  appearance  of  a  careless  fellow.  And  now  I  am 
in  real  earnest,  but  I  can't  turn  hermit  for  all  that.  I 
shall  always  like  a  bit  of  fun." 

The  girls  had  taken  supper  at  Aunt  Fanny's,  and  were 
sitting  on  the  steps,  but  they  sprang  up  and  greeted  the 
boys  with  a  glad  shout. 

"We're  so  lonesome  !  O  Sher,  don't  you  wish  Ruth 
and  Ray  were  back  here,  and  Mrs.  Kenneth,  to  tell  us 
stories?     We've  sat  here  and  watched  and  watched." 

Sherburne  laughed  as  he  kissed  both  girls. 

"  O  Sher,"  cried  Milly,  "wouldn't  it  be  just  awful  to 
be  orphans  and  have  no  father  or  mother  !  To  be  sure, 
Ruth  hasn't  any,  but  she  has  Mrs.  Kenneth,  and  Ray 
has  Aunt  Julia " 

Yes,  they  did  miss  the  heads  of  the  household  very 
much. 


364  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  Where  is  the  little  lad  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  O,  didn't  he  go  with  you?"  returned  Millicent. 
"  He  did  not  come  over  to  Aunt  Fanny's  and  the  boys 
were  so  sorry." 

Sherburne  started.  Perhaps  he  had  gone  to  grand- 
papa's, where  he  was  a  great  favorite.  Supper  was  all 
ready,  and  they  were  hungry  as  bears.  But  the  elder 
brother  rose  when  the  serving  was  done. 

"  Brad,"  he  said  to  the  black  boy,  "get  out  one  of  the 
horses  and  go  over  to  Beaumanoir.  If  Larry  is  all  right 
and  wants  to  stay,  let  him.     But  I'd  like  to  know." 

"Yes,  Mas'r." 

They  went  on  with  their  supper.  Sherburne  felt 
strangely  annoyed  and  a  little  apprehensive.  And  he 
was  startled  when  Brad  came  tearing  back. 

"He  ain't  bin  dar,  Mas'r  Sherburne.  W'y  we  all 
tought  he  gone  wid  you.  Where  d'  s'pose  he  be  ?  Juno, 
she  been  whinin'  round." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Ned.  "  Larry  ?  He  must  have 
wandered  off  somewhere." 

"  Dat  boy  know  ebery  inch  er  groun'  fer  miles  an' 
miles.    But  he's  awful  reckless." 

"Get  out  the  dogs  and  the  lanterns.  Let  us  go  at 
once  and  hunt  him  up,"  exclaimed  Sherburne  in  alarm. 

Juno  whined  and  sprang  from  one  to  the  other.  Caesar 
was  quieter,  but  moved  his  tail  with  a  dawning  sense  of 
responsibility.  They  rushed  on  ahead  and  were  soon 
lost  to  sight  as  well  as  sound. 

"Something  has  happened  to  him,"  began  Bertram, 
gravely.  "  He  wouldn't  have  stayed  out  in  the  woods  all 
day  with  nothing  to  eat." 

"  He  could  have  gone  in  some  cabin.  It  wouldn't 
have  been  the  first  time." 


THE  LESSONS  OF  LIFE.  365 

"We  have  spoiled  him  some  way,"  subjoined  Ber- 
tram, seriously.  "He  won't  mind  one  of  us,  and  he 
always  did  obey  mamma." 

Sherburne  felt  quite  helpless  on  the  subject  of  parental 
authority.  The  Beaumanoirs  had  been  trained  in  truth- 
telling  and  promise-keeping,  and  Lawrence  had  said 
"  Honest  and  true.  " 

They  went  stumbling  on,  calling  now  and  then  to  the 
boy  and  to  the  dogs.  They  heard  an  occasional  bay. 
Should  they  take  this  path  or  that  ?  They  had  no  heart 
for  any  but  the  briefest  sentences. 

Then  Caesar  came  rushing  with  a  swish  through  the 
darkness.  Bertram  held  up  the  lantern  and  the  eager 
fiery  eyes  blinked. 

"Good  dog,  good  Caesar,  what  is  it?  " 

He  ran  a  few  steps,  barking  loudly,  then  turned  wist- 
fully and  ran  on  again.  They  followed  rapidly  on 
through  the  woods  that  had  been  partly  cleared. 

Juno  was  keeping  watch  over  something  and  gave  low, 
melancholy  howls.  When  they  reached  the  spot  Sher- 
burne stooped  and  picked  up  his  little  brother,  pallid  and 
cold. 

"O,  he  isn't  dead  !  "  cried  Bertram. 

"  Let  us  get  back  as  quickly  as  possible."  Then  he 
tried  to  think  what  would  be  best.  "  Brad,  run  on  ahead 
and  get  out  the  big  carriage.  Come  down  the  road  and 
meet  us.  We  had  better  get  over  to  Doctor  Underwood's 
with  all  speed." 

"  Let  me  carry  him,"  said  Ned,  presently.  "  You  are 
tired  and  we  can  get  along  faster." 

It  was  true.  Sherburne  settled  the  limp  body  on  his 
cousin's  shoulder,  and  they  almost  ran.  The  carriage 
was  waiting. 


366  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"  We  shall  not  all  be  needed,"  exclaimed  Sherburne. 
"  Bert,  you  and  Randolph  go  home  and  comfort  the 
girls.  We  will  send  Brad  back  with  a  message  as  soon 
as  there  is  any  word." 

The  boys  went  reluctantly.  The  others  entered  the 
carriage  with  their  burthen,  and  drove  swiftly  to  their 
haven. 

"O,"  cried  Aunt  Fanny,  "the  doctor  went  to  the 
hospital  not  more  than  ten  minutes  ago.  Little  Larry — 
what  could  have  happened  !  Drive  right  over.  He  has  a 
rather  serious  case  and  will  be  gone  half  an  hour  or  so. 
Yes,  go  at  once." 

In  five  minutes  they  were  there  and  Doctor  Under- 
wood had  taken  the  apparently  lifeless  body  to  one  of  the 
wards.  Miss  Eunis  came  and  disrobed  it.  There  was 
a  broken  leg,  how  much  more  they  could  not  tell,  or 
whether,  at  first,  there  was  any  life  left  in  him.  Sher- 
burne paced  up  and  down  in  a  state  of  agonizing  ap- 
prehension. Ned  knew  any  attempt  at  comfort  was 
useless  and  wisely  kept  quiet. 

It  seemed  hours  before  Doctor  Underwood  came  in, 
with  a  grave  face. 

"  He  is  not  dead,"  he  said,  but  from  present  indica- 
tions he  has  been  unconscious  a  long  while.  He  has  a 
broken  leg,  a  very  clean  break,  which  will  cause  no 
trouble  and  it  is  set.     Tell  me  how  it  happened." 

Sherburne  repeated  the  day's  events  in  a  rather  un- 
steady tone. 

"Well — I  don't  see  that  you  were  to  blame,"  an- 
nounced his  uncle,  anxious  to  relieve  the  dreadful  sense 
of  responsibility  he  read  in  the  young  face.  "Maybe 
it  would  have  been  better  if  you  had  switched  him  all  the 
way  home.     Boys  are  trying  conglomerates.     Now — both 


THE  LESSONS  OF  LIFE.  367 

of  you  get  back  to  Sherburne  House  as  soon  as  you  can. 
Stop  and  tell  Aunt  Fanny  I  shall  stay  here  all  night. 
Try  and  get  some  sleep.     You  can't  help  nor  hinder." 

"But — "  began  Sherburne,  eagerly. 

"You  can't  do  me  an  atom  of  good;  you  will  only  be 
a  bother.  Come  over  as  soon  as  you  like  in  the  morn- 
ing. Meanwhile — don't  do  anything  until  we  know 
what  we  have  to  do." 

"Not  send  for " 

"  He  will  be  dead  or  better  before  Carew  could  get 
here,"  said  the  doctor,  testily.  "And  your  father  and 
mother  can't  fly  over.  I  am  capable  of  doing  all  that 
can  be  done,  and  I  have  trained  watchers  and  helpers. 
There — go.     I  can't  spend  any  more  time  talking." 

Thus  dismissed  in  Doctor  Underwood's  peremptory 
fashion,  they  returned  to  the  carriage.  Aunt  Fanny  was 
more  amenable  and  sympathized  warmly  with  them. 

"  If  anything  can  be  done  the  doctor  is  equal  to  it," 
said  she,  with  wifely  pride  and  confidence. 

But  if  nothing  could  be  done  ! 

They  drove  silently  homeward.  It  was  past  mid- 
night. The  girls  had  gone  to  bed  and  cried  themselves 
to  sleep  in  awesome  terror.  The  boys  still  sat  on  the 
porch,  and  had  no  heart  to  retire. 

He  could  have  prevented  all  this  by  taking  the  child 
with  him.  It  would  have  been  a  nuisance,  of  course,  for 
all  of  them  would  have  had  to  give  up  a  little  of  their 
enjoyment  for  his  entertainment,  and  already  Sherburne 
had  devoted  days  to  the  children's  pleasure.  Inexpe- 
rience could  not  tell  when  to  indulge  and  when  to  deny 
likewise  motherhood.  But  would  not  the  days  and  nights 
of  anxiety  more  than  counterbalance  the  one  day's  grati- 
fication ?     It  was  a  grave  question. 


368  TH /•:  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

There  was  little  sleep  for  him.  Soon  after  dawn  he 
mounted  his  horse  and  almost  flew  over  to  the  pretty 
hospital,  which  was  the  fruition  of  many  years'  dreamii-g 
on  the  part  of  its  founder. 

Doctor  Underwood  had  been  lying  half  asleep  on  a 
couch.  The  horse's  gallop  startled  him.  He  ruffled  up 
his  hair  with  his  hands  and  came  out. 

"  You're  early,"  in  a  brief,  almost  curt  tone. 

"  I  wanted  to  know " 

"There  isn't  anything  to  know.  I  am  not  omniscient. 
The  child  breathes  slowly,  and  is  unconscious.  He 
may  lie  this  way  for  days.  We  shall  do  our  best  and 
hope." 

"Then  you  do  think — "  in  a  glad,  relieved  tone. 

"I  do  not  think  at  all  except  to  do  what  is  best.  I 
simply  hope  that  all  will  go  well,  since  he  was  not  dead 
last  night.  Children  have  wonderful  recuperative  pow- 
ers, and  nature  understands  her  work  pretty  well." 

"  Ought  I  to  send — to  papa  ?  " 

"No,  Sherburne,  I  am  going  to  take  this  responsibil- 
ity. You  could  not  do  any  good  by  sending  for  them. 
Before  they  could  get  here  the  child  would  be  dead  or  on 
the  mend.  Your  father  is  improving  rapidly,  and  will 
be  better  during  the  next  ten  years  for  this  chance  of  re- 
laxation. Your  mother  needed  it  as  well.  Now  let  them 
enjoy  it.  If  they  have  to  sup  sorrow,  let  it  be  at  the  very 
last,  when  the  thing  is  inevitable." 

"  But  if  they  should  blame  me —  O,  I  know  mamma 
would,  if  I  kept  it  from  her  until  it  was  too  late." 

"  Don't  you  see  it  would  be  too  late  anyhow?  "  said 
the  doctor,  in  a  tone  of  irritation.  "  Ten  days  or  a  fort- 
night !  And  to  give  them  such  a  shock  if  it  turns  out  to 
be  needless  !     No,  take  my  advice." 


THE  LESSONS   OF  LIFE.  369 

"And  I  could  have  helped  it  all !  If  I  had  taken  him 
with  me  !  " 

"Sherburne,  don't  be  such  a  girl !  "  cried  the  other, 
testily.  "  Girls  and  women  are  always  bemoaning  if 
they  had  done  this  or  that,  and  seeing  a  hundred  things 
that  after  all  would  not  have  amounted  to  a  row  of 
crooked  pins.  When  a  thing  is  done,  why  it  is  done. 
All  the  bewailing  can't  alter.  We  may  learn  some  wis- 
dom for  the  future.  But  do  you  think  you  or  any  one 
can  watch  Lawrence  every  moment  of  his  life  until  he 
reaches  manhood  ?     Were  you  watched  that  way  ?  " 

No,  it  would  not  be  possible. 

"  You  four  fellows  had  the  right  to  go  off  pleasuring 
for  a  day.  I  can't  see  but  that  you  took  every  precau- 
tion with  Larry.  He  promised  to  go  back  to  the  house, 
and  he  did  not.  Even  if  you  had  gone  to  the  porch  with 
him  he  might  have  strayed  off  afterward.  These  are  the 
things  we  have  to  leave  to  an  overruling  Providence. 
There  was  a  moment  of  carelessness  on  the  child's  part, 
and  God  did  not  work  a  special  miracle  at  that  moment. 
I  don't  know  as  we  could  demand  it,  though  I  think  He 
does  often  interpose,  and  we  scarcely  remark  it.  Don't 
be  so  strenuous  and  self-accusing,  but  just  go  on  and  leave 
it  in  God's  hands." 

"You  are  very  comforting,"  Sherburne  said,  brokenly. 

"  Then  take  my  advice  and  act  upon  it,  and  go  about 
your  business  as  if  you  had  some  faith  in  me,  and  in  the 
overruling  Power.     Let  us  wait  a  few  days  and  see." 

"Could  I  just  take  one  glimpse  of  him,"  Sherburne 
asked,  tremulously. 

"O  yes.  What  a  reviving  air  there  is  this  morning. 
It  makes  one  wish  the  morning  and  evening  could  be  all 
there  was  of  the  day.     Yes,  come  in." 


3/-o  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Lawrence  lay  on  the  white  cot  as  if  he  were  already 
dead.  How  beautiful  he  was,  like  a  bit  of  sculptured 
marble.  The  golden  brown  curls  were  soft  and  shining, 
the  brows  perfect  in  their  penciling,  the  long  bronze 
lashes  making  shadows  on  the  white  cheeks,  the  lips 
sweet  and  smiling,  and  one  might  have  thought  the  child 
asleep  but  for  the  deadly  pallor.  Sherburne  wondered 
at  his  beauty  as  if  he  had  never  seen  it  before. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  softly,  but  his  eyes  were  full  of 
tears.     "  And  for  all  your  care " 

"That's  my  business,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

The  household  were  bitterly  disappointed  that  he  did 
not  bring  hope,  and  the  servants  lamented  as  if  the  child 
was  already  dead. 

But  there  were  letters  from  abroad.  One  to  Delia 
from  Princess,  who  seemed  to  be  having  a  very  grand 
time  in  London,  and  whose  vivid  descriptions  made  it  al- 
most as  good  as  seeing  for  one's  self.  And  mamma's 
lovely  letter  that  came  in  nearly  every  steamer. 

Both  girls  promised  solemnly  not  to  say  a  word  about 
Larry  in  their  replies.  But  the  zest  had  gone  out  of  the 
household.  They  lounged  around  and  read  a  little,  and 
the  piano  was  untouched,  the  merry  voices  no  longer 
rang  in  song  or  jest. 

"If  he  was  only  here  where  we  could  see  him," 
moaned  Milly.  "But  uncle  doctor  is  very  cross  about 
it.  O  Sherburne,  tell  us  again  how  he  looked.  Can't 
he  speak  or  anything  ?  " 

Several  times  a  day  they  heard.  The  word  was  al- 
ways the  same — no  change. 

And  yet  the  duties  of  life  went  on.  Sherburne  discussed 
with  Ned  the  two  offers  the  latter  had,  one  at  a  western 
college,  the  other  in  New  York  at  a  little  less  salary. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  LIFE.  371 

"But  you  see  I  could  do  considerable  beside  in  the 
city.  There  are  always  students  to  coach,  and  one  can 
get  up  classes  in  language.  And  this  year  I  do  mean  to 
be  a  little  more  social.  Aunt  Millicent's  home  is  so 
charming.  And  do  you  know  those  evenings  at  Mrs. 
Townsend's  were  just  fascinating.  I  didn't  go  to  many 
of  them,  but  I  enjoyed  them  very  much.  And  your  Un- 
cle Con  and  his  bright  agreeable  wife.  Yes,  I  think  I 
prefer  the  city." 

"O  do  stay,"  rejoined  Sherburne.  "Not  that  I  shall 
be  there,  but  you  seem  nearer.  And  now  that  we  have 
begun  such  a  good,  solid  friendship,  we  ought  to  go 
on." 

"And  I  can  run  down  to  Washington  now  and  then. 
Well,  I  will  write  and  give  up  the  western  proffer." 

Randolph  Carew  found  a  great  deal  to  entertain  him- 
self with.  He  liked  Mr.  Armitage  and  he  used  to  haunt 
the  old  house.  The  neighborhood  about  Ardmore  related 
incidents  concerning  his  grandfather.  He  became  inter- 
ested in  the  hospital,  and  he  found  a  youngish  man  who 
had  served  in  the  frontier  army  under  General  Custer, 
and  though  lame  and  an  invalid,  was  still  full  of  the  fire 
and  the  spirit  of  military  life. 

Sherburne  went  to  church  on  Sunday  and  joined 
heartily  in  the  prayer  for  the  sick  child.  How  sweet, 
solemn  and  near  it  seemed  !  "  Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his 
children."  He  could  just  see  how  his  own  father  would 
gather  Lawrence  in  his  arms. 

They  were  all  to  go  to  Beaumanoir  to  dine  with  grand- 
papa. Doctor  Underwood's  man  touched  Sherburne  on 
the  arm  as  he  was  coming  out  and  said, 

"If  you  please  sah,  the  doctor  want  you  at  de  hos- 
pital." 


372  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Sherburne  went  with  a  heart  full  of  fear,  but  the  first 
glance  at  the  doctor's  face  reassured  him. 

"He  has  spoken,"  the  elder  man  said,  in  a  tone  he 
strove  to  make  as  commonplace  as  possible.  "  He  has 
asked  for  you.  I  want  you  to  sit  here  by  him  until  he 
wakes  again,  then  look  at  him  steadily,  and  answer,  but 
do  not  touch  him  or  agitate  him  in  any  way." 

Sherburne  was  struck  with  the  positive  improvement. 
The  child  was  still  pale  but  it  was  not  the  deathlike 
pallor,  and  there  was  a  shade  of  color  in  his  lips  while 
his  breathing  was  perceptible. 

Sitting  there,  Sherburne  almost  went  back  to  his  fancy 
for  medicine.  A  physician  seemed  to  him  the  incarna- 
tion of  power  and  skill  and  patience.  He  thought  too, 
of  his  father,  and  those  hours  of  agonized  watching. 

The  boy  stirred  and  opened  his  eyes.  Sherburne  had 
much  ado  not  to  clasp  him  in  his  arms.  So  long  and 
steadily  he  looked  the  elder  began  almost  to  fear. 

"Sherburne — "how  weak  and  tremulous  the  little 
voice  was.     "  I  want  to  tell  you — I  forget — I'm  so  tired." 

Then  he  dropped  asleep  again. 

Sherburne  told  this  over  to  his  uncle  and  pleaded  to 
remain. 

"Go  to  Aunt  Fanny's  and  get  some  dinner,  then  you 
may  stay  all  the  afternoon." 

Sherburne  could  only  press  his  hand. 

Dr.  Underwood  felt  for  the  thread  of  a  pulse,  and 
looking  at  the  small  face  was  not  at  all  sure  the  danger 
line  had  passed. 

Sherburne  resumed  his  watching  presently.  He  had 
Keeble's  Lyra  Innocentium  in  his  pocket,  Princess'  favor- 
ite, and  he  had  picked  it  up  from  her  table  that  morning. 
How  many  beautiful  hymns  there  were  ! 


THE  LESSONS  OF  LIFE.  373 

Lawrence  did  not  speak  again.  Several  times  he 
moved  uneasily  and  sighed,  and  at  dusk  the  doctor  dis- 
missed the  elder.  But  he  could  not  help  a  light  and 
hopeful  feeling  pervading  his  very  soul. 

The  next  morning  there  was  an  improvement.  And 
now  he  wanted  Sherburne  again,  and  a  faint  gleam  of 
pleasure  shone  in  the  eyes  so  like  his  mother's. 

"  Sherburne,"  he  said,  a  day  or  two  after,  "  won't  you 
take  me  in  your  strong  arms?     I'm  so  tired  lying  here." 

"Lift  him  carefully,"  subjoined  Doctor  Underwood. 

The  arms  were  clasped  about  his  neck  and  the  head 
dropped  on  his  shoulder  with  a  contented  sigh.  The 
strong  arms  held  him  firmly,  gently. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  my  leg  ?     It's  so  stiff." 

It  was  in  the  plaster  cast.  "  You  have  broken  it, 
dear,"  said  the  voice,  gently. 

"  O,  is  that  it?     I  can't  seem  to  think " 

"  Never  mind.  Do  not  bother  about  thinking.  You 
can  do  that  when  you  get  well." 

"  Can't  you  take  me  home  ?  "  in  a  whisper. 

"  Not  until  your  leg  gets  well.  Uncle  doctor  has  to 
care  for  it." 

"  O — next  week,  perhaps." 

"Yes,  perhaps  then." 

After  a  while  he  begged  to  be  laid  down  again,  and 
then  to  be  read  to,  and  went  fast  asleep. 

Ned  thought  it  his  duty  to  go  to  Baltimore  and  visit 
his  father  and  took  advantage  of  Sherburne  being  thus 
occupied.  There  was  a  reasonable  hope  that  Lawrence 
would  pull  through  with  careful  treatment,  but  he  had 
not  begun  to  remember  much  of  anything.  If  there 
were  no  internal  injuries  and  his  brain  was  all  right — 
serious  provisos. 


374  THE  HEIR   OF  SHERBURNE. 

Princess  and  her  husband  had  gone  over  to  Paris 
where  they  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Phillips,  and  were  coming 
home  together,  would  reach  New  York  early  in  Septem- 
ber. The  judge  and  his  wife  would  be  home  a  week  or 
ten  days  afterward,  and  the  Amory  party  not  until  October. 
Then  Randolph  was  sent  for  and  the  two  boys  looked 
forward  to  the  renewal  of  friendship  a  few  weeks  later. 
The  governess  returned  to  Sherburne  House,  and  though 
actual  lessons  did  not  begin,  the  girls  were  glad  to  have 
her  for  company.  Laura  Underwood  was  to  study  with 
them  this  winter. 

Sherburne  spent  a  good  part  of  every  day  in  the  hos- 
pital. There  was  a  young  medical  student,  a  male  nurse, 
Miss  Eunis  and  a  young  colored  girl  she  had  in  training. 
He  began  to  like  Miss  Eunis  very  much.  She  was  two 
or  three  and  thirty,  and  knew  almost  as  much  as  a  doc- 
tor. 

"  Indeed,"  she  said,  "  if  Doctor  Underwood  gave  up 
the  hospital,  I  should  go  to  New  York  and  study  for  a 
degree,  though  I  like  the  nursing  best." 

He  was  very  much  startled  to  learn  from  her  that  there 
had  been  grave  doubts  as  to  the  little  boy's  entire  recov- 
ery. The  doctor  had  been  afraid  of  some  injury  to  the 
brain  with  the  serious  concussion. 

"Sher,"  he  began,  one  day  when  he  was  lying  in  his 
brother's  arms,  and  the  familiar  abbreviation  sounded  so 
good,  "Sher,  what  happened?  How  did  my  leg  get 
broken.     I  can't  seem  to  get  things  straight." 

"We  think  you  must  have  fallen  from  a  tree.  You 
were  coming  home  you  know.  You  wanted  to  go  with 
us  big  fellows " 

Larry  drew  a  long  breath  and  the  color  fluttered  over 
his  pale  face.     Then  after  a  long  silence 


THE  LESSONS   OF  LIFE.  375 

"  Yes,  I  remember  now.  I — oh,  Slier,  I  didn't  come 
home — not  right  away.  But  I  didn't  mean  to  go  back. 
I  promised  you.  And  I  did  climb  up  a  tree.  I  was 
tired  and  hungry  and  it  was  so  warm.  And  I  suppose  I 
fell  out.     How  did  you  find  me  ?  " 

Sherburne  related  the  story.  "You  see  if  we  could 
have  found  you  right  away  it  would  not  have  been  so  bad." 

"And  if  you  had  not  found  me  at  all !  O  Sher!  " 
He  crept  closer  and  put  his  soft  little  hand  under  his 
brother's  chin  with  a  caressing  movement.  "If  I  had 
stayed  out  there  all  night  would  I  have  been  dead  by 
morning  ?  And  then  I  never  could  have  seen  mamma 
again,  nor, — nor  any  one." 

The  child  began  to  cry  softly. 

"  O,  Juno  would  have  found  you,"  said  Sherburne,  in 
a  comforting  tone. 

There  was  another  long  silence. 

"  Sher,"  in  a  tremulous  whisper,  "  I  was  very  bad  that 
day — wasn't  I?  " 

"Rather,"  but  the  tone  had  a  smile  in  it  as  well  as 
the  face. 

"  Very  bad.  And  I  suppose  God  let  me  break  my  leg 
to  make  me  remember  that  when  one  promises  to  do  a 
thing,  they  must  do  it  at  once.  That  is  what  papa  says. 
Was  it  long  ago  ?  " 

"Three  weeks." 

"  And  how  many  weeks  before  I  will  be  well  ?  " 

"About  three  more." 

"Sher — I'm  awful  sorry.  You  oughtn't  be  so  good 
to  me." 

"Yes,  I  ought  to  be  good  to  you.  I  am  the  oldest  and 
the  wisest,  I  hope.  And  I  ought  to  set  you  an  example, 
so  that  you  will  be  kind  and  true  and " 


376  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

"And  obedient.     0  what  did  papa  say?" 

"  Papa  doesn't  know.  We  didn't  want  to  spoil  their 
delightful  journey." 

"Sherburne,"  in  a  soft,  solemn  tone,  "I  think  I  will 
never  be  so  naughty  to  you  again.  Will  you  please  for- 
give me  and  let  me  try  ?  " 

The  big  boy  and  the  little  boy  sealed  their  contract  with 
a  kiss. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

IN   THE   OLD    HOUSE. 

1I7"HAT  a  year  it  had  been  for  Sherburne  Beauman- 

^  oir  !  It  came  over  him  this  September  evening 
as  he  sat  on  the  porch  with  the  cablegram  in  his  hand 
that  said  the  travelers  had  just  started  and  that  the  pro- 
fessor and  Mrs.  Kenneth  would  be  in  shortly.  Ned  had 
begged  that  Bertram  and  the  two  girls  would  come  to 
Baltimore  for  a  week.  His  stepmother  would  be  glad  to 
see  them  and  give  them  a  warm  welcome. 

Then  Lawrence  had  come  home  amid  enthusiastic 
greetings,  almost  as  if  he  had  been  raised  from  the  dead. 
He  was  allowed  to  walk  with  a  crutch  and  was  a  very 
happy  boy.  His  memory  had  returned  and  there  was  no 
fear  of  any  brain  trouble,  but  his  back  seemed  a  little 
weak,  and  the  doctor  advised  carefulness  for  some  time 
to  come.  He  had  always  adored  his  big  brother,  as 
small  boys  are  apt  to  do,  but  there  was  a  new  tenderness 
between  them,  and  the  elder  brother  was  realizing  more 
thoroughly  all  that  that  term  meant. 

Doctor  Underwood  was  very  proud  of  his  success. 
Sherburne  said  laughingly  one  day,  "that  he  was  almost 
persuaded  back  to  medicine  again ;  it  had  such  large  pos- 
sibilities." 

"No,  don't,"  returned  the  doctor.  "It  would  be  a 
lifelong  disappointment  to  you  father." 

He  wondered  sometimes  if  he  had  any  mind  at  all ! 
He  had  wavered  so  between  the  two,  he  had  been  crazily 

377 


378  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

in  love  with  Gertrude  Maurice  when  he  might  have  seen 
from  the  very  beginning  that  it  was  unwise,  and  that  she 
had  only  a  friendly  regard  for  him.  He  was  humiliated 
by  his  own  folly  and  self-love. 

And  yet  the  gold  came  out  of  the  mines  in  a  crude 
state  and  this  mineral  and  that  had  to  be  separated  from 
it  by  different  processes  and  the  dross  purged  from  it,  and 
presently  you  came  to  the  true  and  perfect  material.  It 
was  not  all  at  once.  He  must  have  needed  the  discipline 
to  draw  away  the  dross  and  foolishness. 

He  would  not  disappoint  his  father.  In  fact  he  had 
been  doing  some  good  solid  reading  this  summer,  and  he 
would  go  in  the  office  in  the  fall  and  try  his  very  best. 
He  had  never  tried  much  in  any  respect,  things  had 
come  so  easy  to  him.  If  where  much  was  given  much 
was  to  be  required,  he  needed  to  bestir  himself. 

For  some  days  Lawrence  had  been  his  only  companion. 
It  touched  him  to  see  the  child  make  his  small  efforts  at 
self-control,  and  not  interrupt  him  when  he  was  busy,  and 
wait  patiently  until  he  was  at  liberty.  It  was  really  very 
sweet  and  touching.  He  had  often  delighted  in  teasing 
the  small  boy  to  see  him  fly  in  a  temper,  but  he  had 
come  to  care  too  much  for  him.  And  when  he  held 
Lawrence  in  his  arms  as  he  did  now  for  an  hour  or  two 
before  bedtime,  enjoying  the  fragrant  out  of  doors  and 
listening  to  the  myriads  of  insects,  sometimes  singing  a 
little  song  himself,  the  child  would  say  as  he  clung  to 
him. 

"O,  how  awful  sweet  you  are,  Sherburne." 

Then  there  was  Bertram  to  whom  he  could  be  an  elder 
brother,  steady,  studious  Bertram  who  would  not  be 
likely  to  rush  into  vagaries  as  he  had  done,  but  who  might 
enjoy  sympathy,  affection  and  sometimes  counsel.      And 


IN  THE  OLD  HOUSE.  379 

there  was  the  sonship,  the  duties  to  his  parents,  the  love 
for  their  declining  years  when  it  came  to  that.  Yes  there 
was  plenty  of  real  work  in  the  world,  and  now  he  felt 
glad  and  eager  to  take  up  his  share. 

The  children  had  a  delightful  visit.  Why  they  never 
knew  Uncle  Edward  was  so  nice,  only  he  wasn't  funny 
and  bright  like  papa,  and  Aunt  Bessy  was  just  splendid  ! 
Cousin  Ned  and  Len  had  taken  them  everywhere,  and  it 
had  all  been  just  wonderful. 

But  the  most  magnificent  thing  of  all  would  be  to  go 
up  to  New  York  and  meet  the  travelers  and  escort  them 
home.  Sherburne  thought  they  could  go,  and  Bertram 
must  to  enter  his  classes.  So  Sherburne  telegraphed  the 
plan  to  the  Kenneths  that  they  might  not  come  down  and 
miss  everybody. 

Aunt  Millicent  took  them  in.  Hope  was  a  big  girl 
already,  and  Carew  measured  every  month  to  see  how 
much  he  gained  on  papa.  Margaret  Phillips  and  her 
husband,  Mrs.  Kenneth  and  Ruth  had  gone  to  the  new 
home  and  had  already  welcomed  the  professor  and  his 
wife,  much  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  Uncle  Con. 

Margaret  said  her  uncle  had  grown  really  stout  and 
handsome,  but  that  it  was  quite  ridiculous  to  think  of 
calling  Princess  aunt,  when  she  was  years  the  oldest. 
Princess  had  gained  a  curious  bit  of  dignity  that  was  very 
becoming,  and  she  looked  so  quaintly  pretty  in  her  Paris 
gowns,  that  had  been  fitted  to  her  style,  rather  than 
transforming  her  to  some  other  style  and  destroying  her 
individuality. 

There  had  been  one  amusing  attempt  at  changing  her 
name.  Now  that  she  was  married  they  though^  it  would 
be  a  good  time  to  begin  calling  her  Aurelia.  '|gut  the 
professor  forgot  and  made  such  funny  work  of  it,  and  she 


380  THE  HEIR    OF  SHERBURNE. 

was  so  amazed  that  she  couldn't  remember,  so  one  day 
when  they  both  laughed  at  the  blunder,  he  kissed  her  and 
said 

"  My  darling,  it  was  the  name  I  first  knew  you  by,  and 
you  have  always  been  my  princess.  A  queen  would  have 
been  too  grand  for  me,  but  I  dared  to  aspire  to  the  next 
round  of  royalty.  And  so  we  will  go  back  to  the  dear 
name  that  suits  you  so  well." 

"  And  there  is  no  confusion  to  it,"  returned  Princess, 
merrily.  "There  are  so  many  Millys  and  Dells  and 
Violets." 

"And  only  one  Princess,  my  Princess." 

They  had  done  a  good  deal  of  love  making  on  their 
wedding  journey  to  make  up  for  the  lack  of  it  before- 
hand. 

Mrs.  Kenneth  declared  that  she  was  one  of  the  hap- 
piest women  in  the  world  with  three  girls  that  she  could 
claim  as  her  very  own. 

And  Larry  found  that  his  broken  leg  made  him  quite  a 
hero.     They  did  not  tell  the  saddest  side  of  the  accident. 

As  for  the  Carews  they  had  all  come  home  well  and 
happy.  New  York  was  busy  and  bustling,  and  work  had 
begun  in  earnest.  Boys  and  girls  were  off  at  school,  and 
there  were  the  duties  of  another  year  stretching  out  be- 
fore them. 

Judge  Beaumanoir  returned  in  the  best  of  health  and 
spirits,  quite  eager  for  the  coming  opportunities.  He 
was  beginning  to  show  the  advance  of  middle  life,  but  it 
was  dignified,  and  brought  the  aspect  of  ripened  experi- 
ence. He  thought  of  all  the  joys  of  home-coming,  the 
keenest  was  to  clasp  his  son's  hand  with  an  understand- 
ing of  what  they  were  to  be  to  each  other  in  the  years 
that  were  to  unfold. 


IN  THE  OLD  HOUSE.  381 

The  Carews  insisted  upon  entertaining  them  for  the 
few  days  of  their  stay,  and  the  children  had  a  fine  time 
together. 

"  After  all,"  said  Dell  to  her  husband,  "  we  must  just 
trust  that  Randolph  will  get  over  his  fancy  for  West 
Point.  We  must  make  other  pursuits  attractive  to  him. 
When  he  is  as  old  as  Sherburne ' ' 

"And  Sherburne  was  very  trying  last  year.  I  did 
feel  quite  discouraged  with  him.  Of  course  the  foolish- 
ness about  Gertrude  had  some  weight.  What  a  fine 
thing  for  him  that  she  really  was  in  love  with  some  one 
else.     My  dear,  what  are  you  sighing  about?  " 

"  Love-making  and  all  that.  Getting  children  settled 
in  the  right  groove  in  life.  And  then — O  Bertram,  their 
going  out  of  your  life  !  " 

"My  darling,  we  will  not  meet  trouble  half-way. 
There  are  years  first." 

The  three  mothers  had  delightful  talks  about  old  times. 
How  old,  indeed,  they  seemed  when  Tessy  was  a  young 
girl  gathering  the  sweetness  of  common  daily  living; 
Millicent  almost  surprised  at  her  own  success  in  literature, 
Lyndell  eager,  strenuous,  longing  for  her  part  in  the 
great  world.  And  now  it  was  living  anew  in  their  chil- 
dren's lives. 

"  The  next  great  family  event,"  said  the  Judge,  "  will 
be  Sherburne's  coming  of  age.  You  know  Dell  you  de- 
sired the  name  to  be  perpetuated.  So  do  I.  I  am  proud 
of  it,  and  there  should  always  be  Sherburnes  in  the  old 
house  where  they  have  reigned  for  nearly  two  centuries. 
My  plan  is  for  him  to  take  the  name  legally.  In  my  old 
age  I  shall  go  back  to  Beaumanoir,  for  that  is  still  dear 
to  me.  Sherburne  will  marry  some  time,  and  I  hope  he 
and  his  will  love  the  old  home  as  we  have  all  loved  it. 


382  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

So  we  must  gather  in  all  the  clan  on  this  occasion,  small 
and  great.  There  have  been  so  few  breaks  in  it,  but  we 
cannot  hope  to  have  it  go  on  that  way  many  years 
longer." 

"That  will  be  a  delightful  reunion,"  returned  Doctor 
Carew.  "  Yes,  we  will  come,  with  all  the  children  that 
have  been  given  to  us." 

Leonard  came  around  to  Lyndell  and  laid  his  hand 
affectionately  on  her  shoulder. 

"O  Dell,"  and  there  was  a  depth  of  emotion  in  his 
tone,  "do  you  never  regret  your  wedding  gift  to  Tessy 
and  myself?  Every  year  it  grows  in  sacredness  to  me, 
every  year  it  seems  more  heroic  in  you.  For  you  have 
sons — you  were  a  Sherburne ' ' 

"  And  my  sons  might  not  care  for  it.  Then  my  heart 
would  be  indeed  broken.  And  while  Randolph  enjoyed 
his  summer  wonderfully,  I  can  see  that  he  is  longing  for 
the  fray  and  the  struggle  that  breaks  from  the  very  soul 
of  active  life.  He  would  find  those  leisurely  aspects  irk- 
some. Even  Bertram,  proud  as  he  is  of  Doctor  Under- 
wood's work,  would  not  be  happy  doing  it.  O,  I  am 
afraid  we  are  recreant  to  the  Sherburne  blood.  And  you 
know  I  have  had  a  great  deal  more  than  that  in  the  value 
of  the  coal  mines.  It  is  right  that  great-grandfather's 
wealth  should  be  divided." 

"  I  feel  that  you  have  given  me  the  better  part.  No 
money  could  recompense  me  for  the  loss  of  it.  And 
Sherburne  is  proud  of  the  home  of  his  ancestors." 

Then  he  kissed  her  tenderly. 

"None  of  my  sisters  are  dearer  than  you,  Lyndell," 
he  said,  with  fervent  emotion. 

Bertram  Carew  asked  her  the  same  question  that  night, 
and  she  answered  him  with  a  kiss. 


IN  THE  OLD   HOUSE.  383 

The  autumn  was  one  of  magnificence,  late  and  glow- 
ing. Indeed  from  the  profusion  of  flowers  it  might  have 
been  early  summer.  Honeysuckle  made  all  the  air  sweet, 
and  roses  lingered  long  in  their  second  blooming.  Ri- 
pened fruit  lent  its  fragrance,  and  the  skies  of  wonderful 
blue  suggested  June. 

The  Amorys  returned  home  in  time,  and  the  Osbornes 
came  on  to  redeem  their  daughter,  they  said,  though 
Uncle  Paul  was  loth  to  give  her  up.  The  three  Stan- 
wood  sons,  Archie  with  his  sweet  daughter,  clerical 
Floyd  with  his  family,  and  Uncle  Win,  who  had  added 
a  baby  to  the  circle.  Millicent  Drayton  and  Nora  Mal- 
lory  who  seemed  more  like  a  sister  than  a  daughter,  and 
Dell  with  her  growing  flock,  and  the  Baltimore  uncle, 
aunt  and  cousins. 

After  that  came  the  neighborhood,  who  were  delighted 
to  do  honor  to  the  new  heir.  At  first  he  had  been  re- 
luctant to  give  up  his  father's  name,  but  it  was  a  proud 
event  to  be  chosen  to  carry  on  that  of  the  old  family,  and 
his  grandmother,  with  her  tall  and  still  erect  figure  and 
silvery  hair,  thought  it  the  proudest  day  of  her  life.  But 
she  too  echoed  Leonard's  sentiment. 

"Lyndell,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  deep 
feeling,  "I  think  none  of  my  children  are  dearer  than 
you." 

They  talked  over  the  long  gone  days,  the  sadness,  the 
joys  and  compensations  of  the  past ;  the  many  sides  that 
had  interlaced  with  each  other's  lives,  and  the  life  that 
was  going  on  into  new  beginnings  with  these  young  peo- 
ple looking  eagerly  forward  to  their  day,  though  this 
evening  they  danced  and  laughed  and  jested  with  all 
lightheartedness. 

It  was  Grandpapa  Beaumanoir  who  made  the  great 


384  THE  HEIR    OE  SHERBURNE. 

speech  of  the  evening  and  read  the  bit  of  legal  paper  in 
which  the  young  man  resigned  his  father's  name,  and 
was  henceforth  to  be  what  he  had  been  named  twenty- 
one  years  before — Edward  Lyndell  Sherburne,  to  carry 
on  the  honorable  name  of  an  old  family  by  the  generosity 
of  his  well  loved  relative,  Lyndell  Sherburne  Carew. 

The  young  man  moved  all  hearts  by  his  manly  and 
tender  reply. 

Doctor  Carew  responded.  There  were  other  speeches, 
a  grand  supper,  and  more  dancing,  a  lovely,  merry  crowd 
of  young  folks,  who  would  always  remember  the  occasion. 

One  of  the  happiest  was  Tessy  Beaumanoir.  She  and 
Dell  recalled  the  afternoon  of  the  play  under  the  old  tree, 
and  how  mysteriously  their  lives  had  blended  together. 
She  had  not  been  a  brilliant  woman  nor  taken  any  high 
place  in  the  world,  she  could  not  have  written  any 
learned  treatise  or  settled  the  great  questions  of  the  day, 
but  to-night  she  was  a  proud  wife  and  mother,  content  to 
shine  in  her  own  path  and  thus  irradiate  the  way  of 
others. 

The  two  who  had  touched  her  life  so  nearly  were 
watching  her  with  loving  eyes. 

"  '  Give  her  of  the  fruit  of  her  hands,  and  let  her  own 
works  praise  her  in  the  gates,'  "  said  Doctor  Carew, 
turning  to  his  wife. 

And  she  with  her  harvest  yet  to  garner  glanced  up  and 
smiled. 


X  -  51^05 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  604  239     4 


